Oneshots and Drabbles
by SilenceoftheLlamas
Summary: Oneshots and Drabbles centring around the Jazz/Prowl pairing.
1. Chapter 1

**This is my first time writing something of this nature, I hope I did okay ;A;**

* * *

Jazz writhed underneath Prowl, succumbing to the pleasurable sensations of him nibbling along the main fuel line in his neck. He gasped when the enforcer bit down hard enough to dent the metal, groaning in pleasure as Prowl licked over the markings. Masked behind the sound of him moaning, his panel clicked open to reveal his already lubricating valve. Prowl smirked and dug his fingers into his hip joints, pinching bundles of wires he found.

"Prowler, please" Jazz panted, grinding their hips together and leaving a smear of lubricant in his wake.

"Please what?" Prowl rumbled in reply, licking up the length of an audial horn. Jazz moaned again, leaning into the touch. Prowl roughly nipped at the fuel line again, and Jazz arched up off the berth.

"Primus!"

"I prefer to go by Prowl" he growled next to his audial in reply, and Jazz shuddered in arousal beneath him. Prowl slowly snaked a hand down to Jazz's interface array, circling the rim of his valve with a digit. Jazz bucked into the touch, barely restraining his whine of desperation. Prowl chuckled, and starting pressing kisses into his chassis, slowly making his way lower down his body until he reached his interface array.

Jazz bit down on his hand to stop himself from crying out as Prowl started licking his valve, sucking on a bundle of nodes at the top. Prowl slipping two digits in alongside his glossa, causing Jazz to arc off the berth again while crying out his name.

Prowl loved that he could reduce Jazz to this.

Jazz was panting heavily, moaning and shuddering. His valve fluttered and clenched around the intrusion, and there was a tell-tale crackle of overcharge indicating that Jazz was getting closer to the edge. Just as Jazz was so nearly there, Prowl drew away, licking his lips. Jazz growled in frustration.

"Prowl!" He moaned, reaching out to pull him back down again. He stopped when he saw the lustful look in his optics. He shuddered and moaned again, a fresh flood of lubricant flowing out of his valve and onto the berth below. Prowls panel had retracted to reveal his spike, almost painfully erect with transfluid running down its length from the top. Jazz moaned at the sight, and crawled forwards towards Prowl. Engine revving, he licked up the length of the spike and took the head into his mouth, pulling a full body shudder and a moan from Prowl. He slowly eased his way down the length, licking and ducking as he went. His hands wrapped around the base, and he sucked in tandem with the movements of his hands.

Prowl was quickly reduced to a shuddering, moaning mess under Jazz's tender care, and was physically fighting himself not to thrust into his mouth. When Prowl was reduced to primal grunts of pleasure, Jazz drew himself off, only to have Prowl tug him forwards and crush their mouths together in a searing kiss.

Licking, sucking and biting created tingles that shot up their backstruts, the charge between the two building rapidly. Prowls hands drifted down to Jazz's hips where he palmed and stroked his aft.

Jazz reached behind Prowl, using his electromagnetic pulses on his doorwings. Prowl grunted in pleasure, his hips jerking upwards and his spike brushing against Jazz's valve. Jazz broke the kiss, the pair panting heavily with optics shuttered from lust.

"Prowler, please! Ah need ya!" He whimpered, attempting to thrust himself down onto the enforcer's length. Prowls hands on his aft prevented him from doing so, and he whined in frustration. Prowl leaned forwards to nibble along an energon line, and pulled Jazz onto his lap. "And just how do you suggest I take you, Jazz?" he whispered into his audial, punctuating the last word with a nip on his audial horn. Jazz quivered under Prowls touch, the charge from before beginning to build back up again. "Through the berth?" Prowl whispered, rolling his hips so their interface arrays ground together, "Or up against the wall?"

Jazz moaned, valve clenching painfully on air. He felt so _empty_ and he hated it. He clung to Prowls chest plates, trembling with desire. Prowls engine rumbled, and he gently pushed Jazz up against the wall the berth was built on. "I thought you'd enjoy it this way." He said as calmly as one could in such a situation. He lined himself up, and pressed a kiss to Jazz's lips which was eagerly returned as he pushed in. Jazz's wanton moan was swallowed by Prowls mouth, their glossas tangled together as their lips worked against the others.

Prowl set a fast pace, knowing that neither of them were going to last very long. Jazz threw his helm back, clanging against the wall, valve fluttering, as he panted Prowls name like a mantra. All too soon, the sensation and the knowledge that this wouldn't be the last time he'd share a berth with Prowl sent Jazz over the edge, and he overloaded hard while screaming his lovers name.

Seeing Jazz loose himself, his visor flash a blinding white, and then the feeling of his valve clenching down on his length dragged Prowl over too, making him cry out his release.

The pair bathed in the afterglow, holding the other close and sharing lazy kisses. Eventually, Jazz started to feel uncomfortable with Prowls length inside him, and started to gently ease off. They hissed at the sensation, everything a little sensitive post-overload. They closed their interface panels and collapsed onto the berth, cuddling close to the other. Jazz intertwined his legs with Prowls, buried his face into Prowls shoulder and promptly fell offline with Prowl following suit not long after.

Clean up and a prompt trip to the wash racks could wait. For now, they were comfortable laying in the arms of the other.

* * *

**I am still writing Experimental, I just sometimes get ideas that don't quite fit in with the plot. Plus Experimental is rated 'T', so I can't exactly post this on there...**


	2. Chapter 2

**Please remember that none of these are connected unless stated otherwise!**

**I just seem to be beating the crap out of Prowl today don't I?**

* * *

_Wishing well_

I didn't just love Jazz. I worshipped him. Hidden in the darkness of the night, I left no inch of his body untouched. I clung tightly onto every sound he made, thriving in them.

He had no idea what he did to me.

But he was an idol I could no longer touch.

"Ah think we should call a break."

"I'm sorry?"

"It's gettin' a lil'... Repetitive." Jazz replied, struggling to find the right word.

"What do you mean?" I could feel my doorwings starting to droop.

"Ah'm sorry, it's not you, it's meh." He replied, standing up. "Ah'll see ya 'round, yeah?"

"... Yes. I'll see you around." How foolish of me. I'd forgotten to factor in his fear of commitment.

0909

It didn't take long for Jazz to latch onto someone else. It was quite depressing, actually. To think that he meant so much to me and yet I was so easily forgotten and replaced.

It was strange laying alone at night. I had become so used to curling up with Jazz that it became difficult to adjust. I hadn't cried since the fall of Praxus, my beautiful home city, but it was at night when I made up for lost time.

Anguish was all I felt, hidden by a mask of calm and collected features with ice blue optics.

Nobody noticed a thing.

Everyone thought I didn't care. Nothing was said to me.

I was fine with that.

It was on the battlefield when I finally got released from my slow descent to insanity.

The decepticons were being particularly tricky this battle. I was hoping that it'd be over soon, as just the _sight_ of Jazz made me feel sick to the core. I was angry with him. I didn't understand what I'd done and he wasn't interested in talking about it, brushing it off with a simple laugh and a "Ya've done nothin', Prowler!"

I saw the snipers lazer as it lined itself up between my optics.

"Prowl!" Bluestreak screamed, abandoning his position and starting to run towards me. I faintly heard the sound of the gun being fired, and I barely felt the bullet pierce my helm.

Well this was a fairly nice way to go out.

Not from depression, old age nor illness. A simple bullet to the head.

A simple death for a simple mech.

I thought I'd heard Jazz scream my name, but that's impossible. Wishful thinking on my part. Just a memory loop.

It would be nice though, to be missed. Even for a little while. I knew I wouldn't be though. I wasn't important. Easily replaced. All I was good at was keeping a straight face and drawing up plans, and any old mech could do that.

I had no friends. I had no family. I had nothing. I was just an old relic.

Nobody misses relics.

I returned to the well before I'd even hit the ground

* * *

**Short but not sweet.**

**~Llama**


	3. Chapter 3

**Ragdoldark – Sure thing~**

**MoonWallker – Thank you O/O I'll try my best!**

**Please remember that none of these are connected unless stated otherwise!**

* * *

_Petting zoo_

"Are you sure this is a good idea?"

"'Course Ah am!"

Somehow, Jazz had persuaded Prowl to help Wheeljack test his latest invention.

The invention was a chip that would allow the cybertronian it was inserted into to be able to project a human hologram of themselves. They'd blend right in, and nobody would be able to notice a thing unless they got too close or got a good look at their hair.

Jazz had had his eye on going to visit a petting zoo for a while. Ever since Spike and Carly had gone to one, Jazz had been desperate to go. However, it was not to be. Their size made it impossible for them to even get _close_ to the animals, much to the dismay of Jazz. Prow was almost certain that Jazz had been the one to ask Wheeljack to make them, not Optimus as he claimed.

"I'm not sure how far the range is."

"Neither am Ah, it's why it's called a test."

Prowl rolled his optics and sighed. "Very well." He said, inserting the chip into his wrist. Jazz grinned, transforming into his vehicle mode. Prowl followed suit, and they drove out of the base.

* * *

They pulled up into the parking lot and formed their holograms. While Jazz had opted to take on the form of a man in his mid twenties with olive skin and dark hair that was in dreadlocks, Prowl had taken the form of a man who looked a few years older with pale skin and short blonde hair.

"Did you bring any money with you?" Prowl asked, waiting for Jazz to fall into step beside him.

"Yeah, Spike's lendin' me some. Ah'm payin' him back later."

Prowl rolled his eyes and linked arms with him. Jazz gave him a surprised look, but seemed to be pleased with the gesture.

While Jazz was excitedly buying their tickets, Prowl flicked through a brochure he found next to the till. It advertised places called 'safari parks' and other zoos where bigger animals from overseas were kept. Apparently you weren't allowed to pet them though, so he figured that Jazz wouldn't be interested.

They thanked the human who had sold them their tickets and walked into the petting zoo.

There were children _everywhere_.

Prowl felt distinctly out of place here and was starting to feel uncomfortable. Jazz was exercising his ability to ignore the stares of those around him and made a high pitched squeaking noise the moment he laid eyes on something fluffy, white and very cute.

"Lambs, Prowler! There are _lambs_!" Jazz exclaimed, clutching Prowls arm with one hand and pointing to the fluffy creature with the other.

"Do you want to go see them?"

"Yes!"

Prowl forced Jazz to link arms with him to stop him from shooting over and possibly scaring the young animals. Once close enough, Jazz wriggled free from Prowls grip and entered the pen, immediately kneeling down to stroke a lamb. Within seconds, all of the lambs in the pen abandoned the children they were being fussed by and swarmed around Jazz, bleating and trying to wrestle the others away.

Well, this was decidedly awkward.

"Jazz, you don't think the holograms give off some strange frequency do you?" Prowl asked, quickly glancing around. Jazz was getting a _lot_ of strange looks. Jazz was silent for a moment before he replied.

"They might..."

Prowl sighed and relented to the fact that they'd be swarmed no matter what. "I think you'd better let the human children have a go. They're getting a bit jealous." He said, carefully eyeing a young boy who was starting to stamp his feet over the absence of lambs.

"That'd be a good idea." He replied, giving a lamb a parting stroke on the head before standing up and climbing over the fence, not risking opening the gate and freeing the lambs.

They moved around all of the pens, Jazz swarming the animals inside and being swarmed in return. Sometimes, Prowl would be pulled into the pen by Jazz and he would awkwardly stand there while the animals head butted him to encourage head-patting. When he thought Jazz wasn't looking, he indulged them.

Just when Prowl thought that Jazz wouldn't get excited over the sight of fluffy animals anymore, Jazz proved him wrong.

"Prowler there are bunnies!" He excitedly squealed, jumping up and down. He immediately wrapped both of his arms around Prowls, and looked up at him pleadingly. "Please come in with me?"

Prowl tried his best to resist, but Jazz was pulling _the face_, the face being the one he pulled when he wanted something. He usually got it.

"... If you must." Prowl mumbled, resigning to the fact his dignity would most likely be destroyed. As they were about to go in, a staff member handed them a bunch of greenery each.

"It's the rabbits feeding time." They explained, indicating to the rabbits already nibbling away at the plant life. "We like to let guests feed them, it adds to the experience."

Thanking the worker, they entered the pen. This time, the rabbits were more focused on the food being presented to them by the young children than the holograms. Prowl sat down on a stool that he found and watched as Jazz found a rabbit that wasn't being presented anything and started hand-feeding it pieces of lettuce.

Hiding his smile behind his hand, Prowl watched him. He felt a little tug on the lettuce in his hand, and he looked down to see that he'd attracted the attention of a black and white bunny. He lowered his hand so the rabbit would have an easier time getting it, and watched with great interest as the rabbit nibbled away.

He heard someone chuckling, and looked up to see Jazz standing next to him holding a rabbit that was mostly fur. "Havin' fun, Prowler?"

Blushing slightly, Prowl looked back down to the rabbit. "I can see why you like them."

"Cute, ain't they?"

"Very." Prowl replied, jumping backwards as the rabbit decided that they would much prefer to be on Prowls lap than the ground. The animal made themselves comfy before reaching out to the lettuce Prowl was holding, making it very clear what they wanted.

Jazz sat down on the stool next to Prowl, fluffy bunny still firmly in his arms, absently stroking it as he watched Prowl.

"Ah want one." He said quietly. Prowl looked up at him.

"A rabbit?"

"They're so cute..."

"We're too big for them."

"Ah know, it'd jus' be nice."

Prowl sighed. He absently started scratching the rabbit under its chin as it nibbled away. "We should probably think about going." He said, glancing up at the sky. It looked as though it threatened to rain. Jazz nodded, allowing the rabbit on his lap to hop away. Prowl followed suit, and they both stood to leave.

They linked arms again as they left, and when they arrived back at their cars Prowl wrapped his arm around Jazz's shoulder. "I'll see what I can do about getting some rabbits." He said quietly. Jazz made an excited sound, quickly turning and hugging Prowl. He nuzzled into his neck, purring at him.

"Jazz, we're getting started at."

"Ah don't care." Jazz hummed, smirking at the indignant splutter from Prowl.

Prowl rolled his eyes and awkwardly started shuffling towards his body. "If you don't let go, we are going in the boot."

"Fine by me, no preyin' optics." Jazz purred, his tone suggesting something that should _never_ be done in public – especially places swarming with young children.

"Can these even _do_ tha-" Prowl was cut short as their holograms suddenly disappeared.

::I take it Wheeljack put a time limit on these::

::Yeah, 'swhy Ah didn't let go::

::Good, I'm not sure my boot's big enough::

Jazz chuckled, and started pulling out of the parking lot, Prowl following him.

* * *

**I am so totally going to do more for this, imagine them at a zoo. That'd be adorable.**

**I got the idea from watching my dad feed spinach to our chickens 0/0 It was very cute, they go wild for it.**

**~Llama**


	4. Chapter 4

**Wooo more pornnn!**

**For MoonWallker, who requested more :3**

* * *

Jazz was totally and utterly insatiable, much to the annoyance of Prowl.

Prowl was due to be having a meeting with Optimus about the amount of energon on the base when Jazz saw fit to sit under his desk between his legs.

"Jazz that is not appropriate-"

"Relax, Prowler! What's the worst Ah can do?"

"This meeting is classified, you may be third in command however you are not meant to be here."

"Ah won't tell."

"That's not the point!"

Jazz just chuckled, and the door chimed. Glaring at Jazz, Prowl sent the command for the door to open allowing their leader entrance.

"Good morning, Prowl."

"Good morning sir." Prowl replied, standing up. Jazz had to hold back his sound of alarm as Prowl aimed a knee at his face.

As soon as Prowl sat down again, Jazz immediately got to work. He walked his digits up the length of one leg, starting at the pede, and he stopped when he hit where the leg met the hip. He repeated it for the other leg. Prowl didn't even _twitch_. Oookay then, next tactic.

He ran both his hands along the length of his thighs, and when he reached his hip joint he gently wriggled his fingers in and started stroking the circuits he found there. That drew a startled gasp from Prowl and a concerned question from the Prime. Prowl quickly passed it off as a strange sensation on his doorwings and they moved on.

That reaction was more promising.

Digging his digits in deeper, he lit up sensors Prowl almost forgot he had. If the CO wasn't in the room, Jazz was sure Prowl would have let out a moan. Jazz nuzzled his panel, wich was starting to feel a little warm much to his delight and Prowls well-hidden horror.

Jazz slowly drew his digits out of his hip joints and instead started to massage his thighs. By now, Prowl would have just crossed his legs like the many other times Jazz had done this, however Jazz himself was now in the way.

::Jazz, stop::

::Stop what?::

::Don't make me pull rank::

Silkily, Jazz stopped and pulled away. As fun as this was, the brig was not a cheery place and Prowl wasn't there. All he had for company was a grouchy prison drone.

::Spoil sport::

::I'm in a meeting::

::Hasn't stopped us before – definitely hasn't stopped Optimus before!::

::No::

Jazz had never failed to be amazed by Prowls ability to have multiple conversations at the same time. He hadn't faltered once in this meeting with Optimus, despite Jazz's distractions.

As desperate as Jazz was to challenge that, Prowl would keep his threat of the brig and put him in there even if he had a charge built. Following that, he'd refuse to interface for _vorns_.

Not too keep on that idea, Jazz settled himself down for a long wait.

* * *

Jazz wasn't sure when he fell into recharge, but the sound of Prowls chair scraping back jolted him awake.

Optimus was leaving.

A delighted grin split Jazz's face. _Perfect_.

He feigned recharge as Prowl knelt down when the prime was gone. "Jazz?" He said gently. Jazz refused to even twitch, keeping his intakes even. He felt Prowl stroke his face with the back of his hand and plant a kiss on his forehelm before be stood back up and pulled his chair forwards towards him so he could sit down and continue working.

Jazz smiled a little. Despite what the others said, Prowl _did_ know how to charm a mech.

He waited a little while before crawling closer to Prowl.

He was sat in the same position as before, pedes planted firmly on the ground with knees apart, leaving his hips wide open to attack.

How inviting.

He crawled into the gap, carefully making sure he didn't accidentally brush against him before he leant forwards. He was careful not to exhale and alert Prowl of his presence in their incredibly compromising position.

When he was sure he was close enough to not be pushed away, he opened his mouth and _licked_ Prowls panel, causing Prowl to jump a good ten centimetres and release a startled yelp.

"Primus, Jazz!"

Jazz burst out laughing.

"I thought you were asleep- ooh" he moaned as Jazz started stroking the cables in his hips again, smirking.

"Ya really know how ta charm a mech, Prowler."

He seemed to blush, and immediately looked away. "You weren't meant to see that." He quietly replied. Jazz nuzzled the joint where his hip and leg met, extending his glossa to lick at the cables. Prowl gasped, pushing his hips forward slightly.

"Ah liked it" He mumbled into the cables, wriggling his digits in further. Prowl moaned again, pressing into the touch. His panel was starting to heat up rapidly, and much to Prowls mortification his spike housing was starting to feel a little tight.

"We shouldn't be doing this, I... I'm on shift" He said almost breathlessly.

"Ya need ta relax, Prowler."

Jazz gently slid his digits out of Prowls hip joint, and started pressing kisses to Prowls panel as he massaged his thighs. Prowl was twitching and gasping, his doorwings splayed out and fluttering. Jazz took a snapshot of the flustered Prowl for... later use.

Prowls panel snapped open to reveal his spike, and Jazz wasted no time in licking up its entire length. Prowl groaned, head lolling backwards slightly. Jazz grinned, tongue flickering out over the slip. Prowl gasped, hips jerking upwards involuntarily. "Jazz!"

Any further complaint Prowl had about Jazz was stopped before it had reached the tip of his tongue by Jazz sliding as much of his length as he could into his mouth. Jazz moaned around his length, starting to paw at his own heating panel. It clicked open with a small click, and he immediately dipped a digit in, circling around the rim before pushing it in deeper and stimulating sensors.

Sensing Prowl was becoming a little impatient, Jazz started licking and sucking on his spike, bobbing his helm up and down along his length.

Prowl was panting, trying incredibly hard to not start thrusting into his lovers mouth and was groaning with every swirl his lovers glossa made along the length of his spike. Much to his dismay, Jazz drew off all too soon however he was rewarded with a sight that made him growl in approval. Jazz, sitting underneath his desk, legs splayed open giving his lover a nice view of his valve which was dripping lubricant everywhere. His lover was gently thrusting in two digits, panting and moaning. He was moaning Prowls name like a mantra, never taking his optics away from his partners.

"Prowler Ah – ooohhh..." He moaned, finding a sweet spot and bucking into the touch. Prowl felt desire and arousal blaze through his circuits, making his spite twitch and a bead of transfluid ran down the length of his spike. Jazz shuddered at the predatory look Prowl was giving him, anticipating the moment when Prowls control broke.

"Please" Jazz whimpered, canting his hips upwards towards Prowl and drawing his digits out. Prowl shifted his chair back and patted his lap, moving his legs open wider. Jazz scrambled out from under the desk and settled himself onto Prowls lap so that their equipment ground together deliciously.

Prowl grabbed onto Jazz's thighs and began to grind their hips together, revelling in the needy whines and moans Jazz released. He growled possessively in Jazz's audial, making him shudder.

"Ah need ya" the saboteur moaned into Prowls audial, and the tactician was only too happy to give his lover what he wanted. Lifting Jazz up so that they were properly aligned, he gently lowered him down onto his spike and released a long, deep, rich moan. With a drawn out cry, Jazz's valve fluttered and clenched around his length, creating a pleasurable sensation.

They crushed their lips together and began massaging them against each other, Jazz wrapping his arms around Prowls neck to deepen it and provide some stability.

Prow began to rock his hips upwards, gently thrusting into the mech in his lap. They swallowed the others moans, their fans blasting out hot air in a desperate attempt to cool their rapidly heating systems while Prowl began to pick up the pace.

Jazz desperately wanted to start thrusting down and meeting him halfway, however his lovers hands on his thighs weren't letting him. He whined, one arm unwrapping from his neck to intertwine their hands together. He broke the kiss, panting heavily. "Prowler, please" he moaned, wriggling his hips to reiterate his statement. Prowl breathlessly purred at the sensation, removing his hands from his thighs and relocating them to his waist.

With a sob of pleasure, Jazz began meeting Prowls thrusts halfway, his visor flickering white every time their hips crashed together. He began moaning his name again, arching his back and throwing his helm backwards in pleasure. He heard Prowl growl before he felt himself behind pressed against the desk, his lover bracing himself with an arm above his helm.

Prowl purred into Jazz's audial; "I hope you know what you've gotten yourself into."

Jazz shuddered and moaned, a fresh rush of lubricant slickening him further. "Do your worst" he whispered, brushing his digits along Prowls doorwings and releasing a mag pulse. Prowl pushed their mouths together, brushing his glossa along Jazz's bottom lip. Jazz didn't hesitate to open his mouth and allow Prowl entry, groaning when their glossas tangled together.

Prowl placed the hand that wasn't bracing him on Jazz's hip and suddenly began to slam his hips forwards, giving Jazz no warning at all. Jazz cried out, hooking his legs around Prowls hips, being able to do nothing more than cling onto him and scream his name.

"Shh" Prowl purred, nibbling on an audial horn, "They'll hear you."

Jazz whimpered before a particularly hard thrust struck a sensor at the back of his valve and had him whiting out, overloading with an impressive scream of his lovers name.

Prowl overloaded with him, snarling in Jazz's audial and releasing inside of his lover. His arm nearly gave out, but he stubbornly refused to collapse on his partner. He drew out, a wet sound following as the mixture of his transfluid and Jazz's lubricant spilled out of the valve and onto the desk, some making it onto the floor.

He collapsed back into his chair, his fans still working hard and watched as Jazz recovered from his high.

"We really need ta do this more often" Jazz said once he had recovered enough to form a coherent sentence. Prowl rolled his optics and handed Jazz a cleaning rag.

"I need to finish more work before my shift ends." He replied, cleaning himself already. Jazz grinned, knowing fully that he was the reason Prowl never finished as much work as he used to.

"Ya love it."

"You know I do."

* * *

**This one was first simply because I had already started the one shot, I just expanded it.**

**Continuation of chapter two next, as per request**

**You don't even want to know how many times I wrote 'mother' instead of 'lover', I'm ashamed of myself.**

**~Llama**


	5. Chapter 5

**For RagdolDark, as requested~**

**A continuation of chapter two. I didn't really follow the request entirely but I hope this is kind of along the lines of what you wanted?**

* * *

_Wishing well part 2_

I was, in all honesty, terrified.

I had a fear of committing. Commitment meant trust. I could count the number of mechs I trusted on one hand.

Special Ops did that to you.

I was freaked out when I realised the only reason I got up in the morning was to see Prowl. When every moment of every day, my thoughts would wander back to him and I would end up smiling like an idiot no matter what.

I screwed up.

Badly.

I am such an _idiot_!

Instead of saying what I really wanted to say, I fragging chickened out and told him that we should break it off – the exact opposite of what I dearly wanted. I'd never seen him look so spark broken before in my entire functioning and the way he just _let me_ walk out was even _worse_.

The way he just continued on as if nothing had changed at all and if he simply didn't _care_ hurt more than I'd like to admit.

I was often in Blasters quarters, often enough for tasteless rumours to spread, usually sobbing, as he tried his best to take my mind off of it. Blaster was a mech I wouldn't hesitate to give my spark up for, and he was one of my closest friends. I could break down in front of him, easy. He'd seen it all before, especially when me and Prowl got into our spats that left us both fuming.

As horrible as our arguments were, leaving me terrified that he'd never let me snuggle up against him again, I missed them. I missed them so much I'd give up anything just to hear him again.

I missed hearing his voice, I missed the smell of his office, I missed the sound of him furiously typing away on a datapad – I just missed Prowl.

And I'd never be able to make it up to him.

Would he even accept my apology in the well? Would he let me at least _talk_, try to explain myself?

I had been stupid. I had been so, so _stupid_!

And now that was it. It's too late.

Gone.

He's gone for good. He'd left us before he'd even hit the ground and there was nothing even Ratchet could do.

Prowl died because I was too cowardly to say three words.

It's my fault.

* * *

**I hope this is what you wanted " I'll re-write this... one day...**

**Anyone have any requests for me to write anything?**

**~Llama**


	6. Chapter 6

**As requested by Moonwallker! Please don't hesitate to send in suggestions, I thrive off them.**

**Please remember that unless stated, these are all unrelated!**

* * *

_Stomach ache_

Jazz groaned, clutching his mid-section. Through a series of rather unfortunate events, he had managed to contract a virus that attacked his sensor net and limited his mobility, along with causing migraines of the likes even _Red alert_ had never had and making his tanks a little more sensitive than normal.

Being the social mech he was, Jazz was starting to suffer slightly. He'd been confined to his quarters under Ratchets orders, and he knew that he wouldn't be able to evade his wrench – even with full mobility he couldn't – so he stayed in there.

On his own.

Bored out of his mind.

Now, being the thoughtful and caring bondmate he was, Prowl had decided to work from his quarters. However this meant that instead of Ratchet force-feeding Jazz the medical grade he needed to fight the virus, he had to.

"Jazz, don't be stupid. Just drink it."

"Meh tanks hurt." He pulled a pathetic expression. Prowl held back a sigh.

"This'll make you feel better."

"Ah purged last time."

"That's because it went down the wrong way."

"It takes like slag."

"You are being childish."

"Ah'm not drinking it!"

"I will force it down your throat."

"You wouldn't."

"Want to bet?"

Jazz pouted before he dramatically rolled over on the berth to face the wall.

"Ah'm tired."

"You can sleep after you've had this."

"Ah'll choke again."

"No you won't, I promise."

Jazz turned over and looked at him. "Ya can't promise that."

"I just did."

Jazz was about to retort when he felt a sharp stab of pain go through his helm. Prowl felt the echo through the bond, and placed the cube aside.

"Migraine?" He asked, climbing up into the berth with his mate. Jazz gave him a shaky thumbs up, one hand rubbing the side of his helm. Prowl sat behind him, and gently encouraged him to lean against him.

"This could have been avoided if you'd drunk the medical grade."

"Ah'd rather this than a bitter taste for joors."

"You're not going to get better if you don't drink it."

Jazz lay his helm back on Prowls shoulder and gave him a blank look.

"Meh point still stands."

"As does mine."

"Yer impossible."

"You're even worse." Prowl replied, gently massaging an audial horn. They'd learned early on that massaging Jazz's audial horn helped greatly with the pain from the migraines.

Prowl started pressing kisses to Jazz's helm, slowly making his way down to his faceplates. While Jazz was distracted, he swiped the cube up from the side and removed the seal. He gently tilted Jazz's chin up, prompting him to offline his visor and open his mouth slightly, expecting to receive a kiss, however instead of Prowls lips he was met with the edge of a cold cube and the vile taste of medical grade.

Prowl tightened his hold on Jazz's jaw, keeping him in place as he poured the medical grade into his mouth. All Jazz could do was flail his legs and swallow, visor onlining in shock. When the cube was empty, Prowl took it away and finally pressed a kiss to Jazz's lips.

As soon as Prowl loosened his grip on Jazz's jaw, Jazz whipped himself away and glared at his bondmate.

"Wha' was that for? Ah nearly choked!"

"It's a good thing you didn't then, isn't it?"

"Jus' ya wait 'till yet ill Prowler, Ah _will_ get ya fer that."

"I look forward to it."

Jazz huffed and rolled away from Prowl, back facing him. He sulkily pulled a thermal blanket over himself and offlined his visor.

"Goodnight, Jazz." Prowl said, kissing his helm as one would a child and getting off the berth, walking back to his desk to complete more reports. Jazz mumbled something in reply before falling into recharge.

* * *

**I hope this is along the lines of what you wanted~**

**DarkSirocco – Will do :3 Thank you :D**

**~Llama**


	7. Chapter 7

**As requested by DarkSirocco :D**

* * *

Not long after Prowls dead, I followed.

Everyone started to notice the difference in me. No more music, no more friendly chatter, no more dancing, no more anything... me. Blaster was at a complete loss as to what to do.

I had stopped refuelling properly, and when I did it was just a sip before I handed it over to Bumblebee who needed it much more than I did.

Ratchet had tried to get me to take in more, going as far as to confine me to medbay and put me on an energon drip, but as soon as I was out again, despite very real threats and promises of pain and wrenches, I still didn't care. In my eyes, I deserved it.

Prowl deserved someone so much better than me.

The Well wasn't what I expected, really. I had expected to spend eternity burning in the Pits.

The Well was a blinding white, and the humans weren't too far off with their description of heaven. I felt light, almost weightless, and when I looked down I still had my frame. It was weird, really, but I guess there had to be something for our sparks to do before they returned to the living.

While any normal mech would go enjoy the views and pay Primus a visit, I had other ideas.

I had to find Prowl.

I was getting weird looks, sprinting around and shouting Prowls name. Even when my legs felt like lead and I could barely move them, my throat sore and hoarse from the constant abuse, I still kept on going.

_I had to find him._

I was nearly dragging myself along the floor when I finally found him. I could barely even speak, but I _had_ to hear him again. He was sitting down, his back was facing me, and he was looking out over a beautiful vista.

"Prowl?"

His doorwings shot up into a 'v' shape, but he didn't turn around.

Please look at me. _Please..._

"Prowler please..."

My voice burst out into static towards the end. He still didn't turn around. I felt the all too familiar feeling of coolant welling up in my optics, and I thunked my helm against the floor.

I should have known. Prowl was private. His trust was not easily earned, and if you broke it once you never got it again – no exceptions. I had completely torn his spark out and shattered it in front of his face.

He must completely and utterly _hate_ me.

I didn't blame him. I hated me too.

I must have looked so undignified, lying on the floor crying. I attempted to pick myself up, face-planting in the process, before I was finally standing up on two pedes. My first steps were shaky, but step by step I slowly made my way towards Prowl.

While I was trying to find him, someone had stopped me and told me it was useless. That Prowl was bitter, sour, and that there was no point to seek him out as he would send you away before you'd even got a word out. I hoped that this was a different Prowl.

I eventually made it next to Prowl and I collapsed next to him, intaking heavily. Being as light as a feather isn't all it's cracked up to be. His doorwings were still in a 'v' shape, pulled taught and quivering slightly from the strain of keeping them that way.

"Prowler-"

"Jazz." He hissed. I leaned back slightly. I'd never heard him hiss like that before, even towards a decepticon. I bit my bottom lip. What had I _done_...?!

"Ah know this ain't gonna cut it but-"

"Don't. It's useless."

"Please just let meh expla-"

"So now you'd like to talk about it?"

"Prowler please just let meh!"

"Why should I?"

"'Cause Ah'm a coward! Ah was too scared to say it while Ah could!"

"Never would have guessed there was something you were too scared to say."

I glared at him, coolant still running down my face and vents hiccupping. "Ah loved ya, Prowl. Ah'd do anything ta get ya back. Ah wanted ta have ya forever, not lose ya."

He was glaring back at me, and he looked angry. Not furious, just angry. While I was glad to at least see his face again, it was scaring me.

"Don't" He growled, "Don't say that. Don't lie to me."

"Ah'm not lying!"

"You expect me to believe that when the moment you stepped foot from my office you went off and fragged another mech-"

"Ah wasn't fraggin' anyone!"

"Leave." He snarled, whacking his head away so he didn't see any of me at all. When he didn't hear me move, he shouted it.

"Ah can't feel my legs." I meekly admitted. Trying to find him had taken more out of me than I'd thought. He growled, jumping off the ledge he was sat on and transforming, speeding away from me. It took a moment to register what had happened before I slowly sunk down and lay on the edge, sobbing and keening.

I'd royally fragged up and I couldn't even try to fix it anymore. I'd told him how I felt about him and he still wasn't interested.

I didn't see a way to fix this one. There wasn't anything I could think to do. I couldn't go after him, as the rest of my body was refusing to move. He wouldn't hear me screaming his name if I tried, and if he'd even come back was a gamble. Before I knew it, I had ended up crying myself to sleep.

When I woke back up again, I could feel something moving. I slowly onlined my optics and looked around.

Prowl.

Prowl had come back, and he was curled around me, arm wrapped tightly around me so I couldn't get away. He was mumbling something in my audial. I couldn't understand him, but I didn't care. He came back.

I snuggled up closer to him, nuzzling his chassis. As I was wrapping my arms around his midsection, what he was saying suddenly became clearer. He was repeatedly apologising to me.

"I'm sorry; I shouldn't have said any of that to you."

"It's okay, Ah deserved it."

"But you didn't-"

"Prowler, shush. Just accept it was my fault. I'm admittin' to it for once! Ya should be celebratin'!"

Prowl snorted, stifling his laughter in Jazz's helm. Jazz grinned. This felt _great_. He never knew he would miss this so much.

Jazz gently pulled one of Prowls hands away from him and linked their fingers together. "Ah love ya, Prowler."

"I love you too, Jazz."

* * *

They say that the pain from your spark splitting from your carriers is the pain from a spark being taken from The Well.

They also say that those who become your friends are people who have the sparks of those you were once friends with in your past life.

When I first attended the academy, a new one set up after the great war, I met someone there who no matter what I did, I always felt my spark tug me towards them. When I confided with my creators about this, they told me to bite the bullet and follow the pull.

So I did.

Millions of vorns later, I still don't regret it. We had bonded. When they died, I followed with them. We entered the well together and continued the cycle together, knowing that no matter what we'd be reunited again.

And it all started with two people. Prowl and Jazz.

* * *

**Sorry if my idea of The Well is a little strange, I know it is but I couldn't write about them just being 'spark's because it sounded really, ****_really_**** strange when I read through it.**

**I'm gonna put all of the drabbles as its own little story so it's easier to read~ Please look out for it!**

**~Llama**


	8. Chapter 8

**Look who finally got round to typing this up!**

**Chapter 2 where Prowl didn't die, as requested by IBrokeThe4thWall.**

* * *

_Wishing well alternate_

I didn't just love Jazz. I worshipped him. Hidden in the darkness of the night, I left no inch of his body untouched. I clung tightly onto every sound he made, thriving in them.

He had no idea what he did to me.

But he was an idol I could no longer touch.

"Ah think we should call a break."

"I'm sorry?"

"It's gettin' a lil'... Repetitive." Jazz replied, struggling to find the right word.

"What do you mean?" I could feel my doorwings starting to droop.

"Ah'm sorry, it's not you, it's meh." He replied, standing up. "Ah'll see ya 'round, yeah?"

"... Yes. I'll see you around." How foolish of me. I'd forgotten to factor in his fear of commitment.

* * *

It didn't take long for Jazz to latch onto someone else. It was quite depressing, actually. To think that he meant so much to me and yet I was so easily forgotten and replaced.

It was strange laying alone at night. I had become so used to curling up with Jazz that it became difficult to adjust. I hadn't cried since the fall of Praxus, my beautiful home city, but it was at night when I made up for lost time.

Anguish was all I felt, hidden by a mask of calm and collected features with ice blue optics.

Nobody noticed a thing.

Everyone thought I didn't care. Nothing was said to me.

I was fine with that.

* * *

The decepticons were being particularly tricky this battle. I was hoping that it'd be over soon, as just the _sight_ of Jazz made me feel sick to the core. I was angry with him. I didn't understand what I'd done and he wasn't interested in talking about it, brushing it off with a simple laugh and a "Ya've done nothin', Prowler!"

I saw the snipers lazer as it lined itself up between my optics.

"Prowl!" Bluestreak screamed, abandoning his position and starting to run towards me.

Hearing Bluestreak scream my name triggered something in me and I quickly ducked, rolling away from where I was standing out in the open to hide behind something. A large rock to my right provided the cover I needed. Despite me quickly finding cover, the bullet still grazed me and badly cracked an optic. I couldn't see out of it.

Bluestreak was quickly at my side, doorwings quivering. Poor kid had already seen enough Praxians die at the hands of the decepticons, he didn't need me on that list too.

Although I was still slightly shocked about nearly being shot in the dead, this was a battle field and I had to carry on fighting. I told Bluestreak to continue providing support to a certain front liner duo before I reloaded my acid rifle and took aim at the first decepticon I saw.

Only for Jazz to promptly get in the way.

My finger nearly pulled the trigger, and I felt myself freeze when I thought it had fired. Despite everything, I would never forgive myself if I had shot Jazz. It wouldn't improve my dwindling mood any further, and the grief I would receive for it would be unavoidable.

The moment Jazz was out of the way again I adjusted my aim and pulled the trigger.

* * *

Ratchet was bitching the entire time he made sure I hadn't suffered from any other damage Optic damage wasn't easy to fix here on Earth.

Ratchet told me I was lucky. The sniper had an incredibly clean shot of me – one bullet, and I'd be dead.

I was thankful that he didn't say anything in addition to his raised eyebrows at how low my coolant supplies were. I can easily pass it off as my battle computer working harder to other 'bots, however when a medic is concerned it's futile to lie. They know.

The moment I had left the medbay sporting a fetching eye-patch to cover my exposed optical sensors, as Ratchet had removed the glass, Bluestreak had rammed into my side and enveloped me in a hug. He was reluctant to let go, even when I rubbed the area in-between his wings. It was always soothing to be rubbed there.

Jazz used to do that a lot.

Spark clenching, I escaped from Bluestreak after ensuring him that I was fine and everything wrong could be fixed along with a promise of getting energon with him.

I hid away where I always did.

My office.

I had limited vision to start with, so I didn't see Jazz waiting by the door just inside until I felt his movements with my doorwings. I whirled around to face him, and I was shocked to see how... _broken_ he looked.

Wasn't he happy?

I thought he was fine.

He had that look on his face that told me he was desperately trying not to cry and start blubbering. I hated that look; I never really was brilliant at comforting.

Probably why he left.

I stood there silently, watching him. His bottom lip started trembling, and before I knew it he had tightly wrapped his arms around me and he was blubbering, fat coolant tears pouring down his face from behind his visor and he was uttering apology after apology. He was shaking, stuttering about how terrified he was when he saw the snipers laser lined up between my eyes and about how he didn't know what he'd do if I didn't dodge in time. Gingerly, I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and he took it as an invite to huddle closer to me.

While this was making me feel incredibly uncomfortable, I couldn't help but wonder what had brought this about. I very rarely saw Jazz cry. It was usually after a hard mission that had stressed him out or when he was ecstatic when he did in front of me, otherwise it was always Blaster.

Blaster.

Oh. _Oh_.

He'd turned to Blaster for comfort as he usually did. Comfort. That was all he wanted.

I murmured back to him, trying to get him to calm down before he purged his tanks or offlined from the stress he was putting on himself. He eventually started to stop erratically intaking, however there was still the odd tear. I was surprised that he still had enough coolant – it was all over me and had gotten under my plating. It squelched when I moved, much to Jazz's amusement. Despite his earlier melt down, he managed to laugh at the high-pitched noises.

I frowned at him, trying to keep as still as possible. He sobered up again, hiccupping every now and then. He was still tightly clinging to me, refusing to let go when I asked him so I could settle myself into a more comfortable position. I eventually gave up and started awkwardly waddling towards the door.

My moping spot had been compromised, and the very thing I was going to mope about was currently clinging to me like lichen. Although my battle computer was insisting that it was illogical to trust Jazz, I did.

Despite what many may think, I trusted him.

* * *

**Sorry this took so damn long, it's been sitting on my phone for days, I was having trouble deciding where to end it.**

**~Llama**


	9. Chapter 9

**As requested by MoonWallker! It follows on from chapter 6, however it can also stand alone~**

**I'm still accepting requests everyone, so if there's an idea you have don't hesitate to share!**

* * *

_Twins_

Jazz hadn't been feeling great for the past two decacycles. He was absolutely atrocious when it came to visiting Ratchet and taking his medical grade, as discovered when he had his virus, so it was a fight on Prowls part to get him to visit the medic. He had started to complain about a funny feeling in his spark, being more tired and always feeling hungry, as if something was draining him constantly and Prowl was starting to worry about his mate.

Prowl sighed when he couldn't focus on his work. All he could think about was Jazz and how worried he was about him – it obviously wasn't 'nothing' as Jazz insisted, there was something wrong with him!

So today, while Jazz was recharging, Prowl had taken him down to the medbay. It was worrying that Jazz had allowed himt o do that, as usually he was a light sleeper and being picked up would result in a punch to the throat. As he had learnt. The hard way.

::Prowl, I think you'd better get down here.:: Ratchet commed him. He didn't sound grave, as if Jazz was in danger of dying, he just sounded a little miffed. As if he were annoyed over something.

This gave Prowl some warning for the wrench that sailed past his helm when the doors to the medbay opened to allow him access.

"You fragger!" Ratchet snarled, another wrench already at hand. Prowl gave him a wary look.

"How is Jazz?"

"Oh he's fine, just one small little detail you should know."

"And that is?" Prowl was starting to feel a little nervous. What was Ratchet so mad about?

"He's sparked."

Oh. _That_. Surely he'd heard wrong.

"Excuse me?"

"With twins."

Prowl felt all of his weight sink down out of his body though his pedes. Jazz was sparked? When did that happen – no, how?! They'd been so _careful-_

"Twins?" Prowl replied weakly, feeling his processor starting to protect. Ratchet nodded, lips pressed into a firm line. There was a reason the medic was so pissed – He liked to be _told_ when mechs were planning on having sparkling, especially considering he was the one who had to take care of them.

There was a distinct high-pitched whining noise, and Prowl promptly crashed. Ratchet sighed, picking him up and putting him onto a medical berth with the help of First Aid. Jazz was sat on another medical berth, watching the exchange with an expression of mirth. He was ecstatic. Sparklings! With Prowl!

Twins!

He'd always wanted to start a family with Prowl, however the war had put that plan on hold. They were in the high command – that made them targets already. A bonded couple? Even better. If one died, the other would follow. If one was tortured, so would the other one at no extra effort.

It was too dangerous to have sparklings.

This definitely changed things.

"Is he gonna be okay?" Jazz asked, walking over to the berth Prowl was in. Ratchet had hooked him up to something and was typing away on it, probably finding out what went wrong.

"He'll be fine. He's coming round now." Ratchet said, unplugging the device and glancing at Prowls face.

Jazz relaxed slightly – the crash wasn't that bad then. Before Jazz could excitedly greet him, Ratchet shoved a cube of medical grade into his hand.

"Drink it." He growled before looking at Prowl. "And you should know better than to fully merge with a high charge!"

Prowl looked at Ratchet blankly before slowly sinking back down into the berth and groaning.

"That wasn't a dream was it?"

Jazz quickly downed his cube with a grimace before piping up with a cheerful 'nope!' and hopping up onto the berth with Prowl. Prowl shifted to make room for Jazz, who snuggled up to his side.

Prowl could feel Jazz's feelings pour through the bond – happiness, admiration, love, nervousness and excitement. He felt bad about being so apprehensive over the thought of sparkling, however Jazz's excitement was contagious and soon Prowl felt himself warm up to the idea.

Ratchet had left them and given them some privacy while the black and white pair allowed the news to sink in.

"I told you that you should have seen Ratchet."

"Shh, you. Would'a been fine."

"You could have killed them, that is not 'fine'!"

"Ah was plannin' ta see Ratch today actually"

Prowl rolled his optics, sitting up and allowing Jazz to clamber into his lap, sitting across it sideways so that they were still facing each other. He nuzzled Jazz's audial horn, sighing.

"Don't ya want sparklin's?" Jazz asked, sounding worried. Worry and fear started to bleed through the bond, Jazz's excitement rapidly fading. Prowl pulled him closer, quickly kissing his forehelm.

"I'm glad there's nothing wrong with you. I thought you were ill again."

Jazz smiled, burying his face into Prowls shoulder.

The realisation that he was going to be a Sire suddenly slammed into Prowl. "I'm going to be a sire." He said quietly. Jazz nodded, grinning at him.

"Yep."

Prowl tightly hugged Jazz, sending al the adoration, love and excitement he could through the bond, kissing him passionately. Jazz returned what he could through the bond, and he was about to play with his mates doorwings before a wrench came flying over and smacked into Prowls helm.

"Not in my medbay!" Ratchet snarled.

Jazz laughed, jumping up from the berth and escaping, towing Prowl along behind him.

* * *

**I hope this reached your expectations!**

**I'm sorry I haven't updated anything, I've been rather busy with my prom and I've hit a writers block of sorts. I'm just trying to beat the living daylights out of it.**

**~Llama**


	10. Chapter 10

**As requested by Moonwallker! Sorry this took so long, I've just been so busy lately.**

* * *

_Bubble bath_

It was, for lack of better term, pissing it down. The water had saturated the ground, making it sticky with mud that sucked you in the moment you stepped on it.

Jazz was out on patrol with the lambo twins, and they were without a single doubt filthy. Prowl was thankful that officers had their own private washracks. Without a doubt, Sunstreaker would kick up a storm if he couldn't get washed, re-painted and polished the moment he stepped foot in the Ark. He was such high maintenance, it was a wonder he got through the war the way he did.

The only warning Prowl had that Jazz had returned was a shout of his name and the force of the mech colliding into his back, splattering muck everywhere.

"Jazz!" Prowl shouted, throwing his arms out to avoid slamming into the floor. Jazz wriggled around on his back, spreading the mud around as much as he possibly could.

"It's all in meh gears!" he loudly complained, shuffling awkwardly. A wet squelch met their audials. "And in meh joints!"

"Maybe if you stopped moving it wouldn't get everywhere."

"It got in while Ah was drivin'"

Prowl dragged himself out from under Jazz – well, he tried to. Jazz stubbornly stayed firmly planted on his back, clinging to Prowls midsection like a koala. "Ah need a bath, pronto." He mumbled. Thanks to Jazz, it looked like Prowl needed one too. It stunk like Jazz had _planned_ for this to happen.

"You're cleaning this hall." He growled, awkwardly pulling himself up into a standing position. Jazz still clung to him, evidently sulking. He _hated _having mud in his joints. It was slimy, organic and it always felt gritty.

Dutifully ignoring the looks that were thrown their way by the mechs they passed, Prowl waddled over to the washracks. Even though officers had their own washracks, they didn't have baths. No, they had a single oil bath and that was kept in the washracks. It was very rarely used, and the mech had to have permission from an officer to use it.

Being officers themselves, Prowl and Jazz had no problems getting the door to it open.

The moment Prowl was in the room Jazz let go of him and bounded over to the bath, quickly slipping in with a sigh. His visor dimmed and he had a faint smile on his face, bad mood fading away. He glanced at Prowl who stood awkwardly by the door, undecided as to whether he should join the black and white or shower instead. He reached his hand towards him, inviting him in. Prowl looked slightly embarrassed.

"Ah'll drag ya in." Jazz stated, moving to the edge and pulling himself out to show him that he was serious. Prowl quickly relented, slipping into the oil bath opposite him. He relaxed back against the side, surprised at how warm the oil already was, and offlined his optics. He guessed that Jazz must have sent the command for it to start warming up while he was busy getting him covered in mud too.

He onlined his optics again to ask Jazz why he'd done that before he stopped, and watched with faint wonder as Jazz squeezed a bottle of something into the oil, swirling it around so that bubbles began to form.

"What is that?" Prowl asked, all previous thought forgotten. Jazz grinned before snapping the lid back onto the bottle and returning it to the side.

"Bubble bath."

He'd never heard of it before. At his look of complete and utter confusion, Jazz laughed. "Turn on the jets, full power."

Prowl didn't even think about what turning on the powerful jets mixed with copious amounts of bubble bath would do, and he soon learned. With the jets now turned on, the bubbles were forming at an alarming rate. The way the water was being thrown around meant that the bubbles were getting launched _everywhere_. Prowl quickly found the button to the jets and turned them back off again, but it was too late.

"What did you make me do?!" Prowl demanded, feeling a little embarrassed. He should know better with Jazz! He was worse than the twins! Jazz was cackling with laughter, clearly finding the entire situation humorous. Prowl didn't quite share the same mentality. He frowned at him, folding his arms over his chest.

Scooping up a large amount of bubbles, Jazz pulled them towards him and up against his face, almost covering it. Prowl was slightly worried that he was going to irritate his optics with them until he pulled his arms away, the bubbles slipping away to form a white, fluffy beard. The saboteur threw his arms out, grinning widely. "Ya like meh new look?"

Prowl stared at him, looking slightly nervous. Jazz glanced above him, about to warn Prowl about something but it was too late. A huge group of bubbles splattered onto Prowls helm, slowly dripping down his face. Prowl quickly wiped it away from his optics and looked up _oh Primus how did that get up there_.

The ceiling was _covered_ in bubbles, absolutely covered. It was starting to drip down onto the floor, some landing in the bath and on their helms. The most logical explanation as to how it got there was from the force of the jets, but surely they weren't _that_ powerful...

Prowl felt his logic centre glitch and started laughing hysterically. The situation was so _obscure_ he had no idea how to even _begin_ to react. Jazz was slightly worried that he'd broken the poor mech.

"Hey Prowler, ya feelin' okay?"

"Nooooooo" Prowl replied, white specks appearing in his optics. He was close to crashing. Shoot; and Jazz had thought this would have been a great idea. It appeared that it wasn't, and Prowl was reacting quite badly to it.

Relenting to the fact that he'd _never_ be able to have a bubble bath with the tactician, he set about trying to make the situation more logical. Starting with the bubbles on the ceiling.

"They were there earlier, Ah had Blaster put 'em there" He tried. Prowl looked at him blankly, fighting internally. Probably going over sets of data, knowing him. Something _logical_. Data was logical, right?

"I... see."

That seemed to work. Jazz enthusiastically nodded, grinning. Prowl appeared to be accepting this as his eyes returned to their normal ice blue, and he shook his helm with a groan.

"Remind me to _never _take a bath with you ever again." Jazz pouted. No fair! He still wanted bath time with Prowler – just no bubbles. Bubbles were a bad idea.

"Aww, Prowler! Who's gonna get meh back?"

Prowl fixed him with a glare, taking two scrubbing brushes off the shelf and tossing one at Jazz before he started scrubbing at his legs.

As he hadn't been thrown outside of joors on end, he wasn't as bad as Jazz. A few minutes of scrubbing made him squeaky clean. He contemplated getting out, but the pathetic sight of Jazz attempting to scrub his back, and failing miserably, made him stay. He shuffled over to Jazz and before he could question what he was doing, he began scrubbing away. Jazz began purring, leaning into the touch. Prowl sighed and nudged him forwards. Jazz had gone slightly limp from the treatment, but still sagged forwards before suddenly jerking upright when Prowl reached the middle of his back.

Prowl was startled by the sudden movement before he quickly understood.

Jazz was ticklish there.

A malicious grin spread on his face before he started scrubbing there again, Jazz bit down hard on his lip, squirming and gasping, a few giggles escaping before he lost control and started screaming with laughter, thrashing around. Oil was flung out of the bath and onto the floor with a slapping noise, creating a huge mess that would surely get them barred from using the bath. When Prowls arms started to feel like lead he stopped, panting slightly from the effort of scrubbing that fast, Jazz huffing to try and cool himself down.

"Tha'" Jazz began, "Was _mean_, Prowler."

"That, was funny."

"Ya have a twisted sense of humour."

"You love it."

"Ah know Ah do."

* * *

**I'm not sure if I'll be able to update Nobility or Experimental until I get back from my holiday. I'll definitely be writing during that week though! I've got a lot of the next chapter of Nobility down, I just need to finish it, so it's probable that that will be updated before I leave but I'm not making any promises.**

**(Do I win any awards for having 'he' in the same sentence so many times it doesn't even look like a word anymore?)**

**~Llama**


	11. Chapter 11

**Continuation of chapter 9, I believe? Someone wanted to see more so here you go – for you!**

* * *

_Twins part 2_

To say that Prowl was excited would be an understatement.

He was having sparklings! With Jazz! He was having sparklings with the love of his life – who _wouldn't _be excited? Okay, maybe Red alert wouldn't be too enthusiastic (think of the security threats a sparkling was capable of) and it made them a _slightly_ bigger target to the decepticons but all of that waned in the fact that they were going to be creators.

Jazz was _itching_ to run around the Ark screaming that he was sparked, but Prowl kept a firm grip on his shoulder. He would most certainly _not_ be running around screaming. He'd excite the dinobots and Prowl was in too good a mood to deal with the idiots, who would without a doubt follow Jazz, even if they didn't know why he was so happy, and destroy everything.

Again.

"Aw Prowler, please!" Jazz begged, giving Prowl a pathetic look. He rested his chin on Prowls chest and looked up at him with a kicked puppy expression.

"No. We can't allow the base to be destroyed again; we need all the resources we have." He replied, tapping Jazz's chest. "Especially with the little ones."

Jazz nodded, absently rubbing his chestplates. A small smile broke out on his face.

"Ah'm a carrier." He murmured almost dreamily, his free hand seeking his mates and tightly clasping it when he found it. Prowl squeezed back, barely suppressing a smile himself.

"They'd better be cute. Primus damn adorable." Jazz said, looking back up at Prowl. Prowl laughed, nuzzling his mate.

"With you, they will be."

* * *

A carrying Jazz was not a happy Jazz.

His audial horns had been made more sensitive, and he couldn't stand to listen to loud music with a good beat anymore. That cut out at least 90% of his favourite songs. This also meant that any parties that were being held were out of the question for him.

This meant that Jazz had a very limited range of songs to listen to, or he had to face the silence. He didn't know how Prowl did it – it was driving him _insane_! Sure, he could stand the silence for _vorns_ on missions but he had to then. It was that or die, quite frankly, and Jazz was a big fan of living.

But this was different!

And damn, he really wanted some oil cake right now.

He was very tempted to call Prowl and ask him to get him some, however something told him that it was best to look in the kitchenette first, or he'd have a very peeved Prowl on his case.

He snooped around a little, opening up random cupboards before he spotted a cooling unit. He opened it and cheered – oil cakes! Yes!

He took one out, sitting crossed legged on the floor like a young child and started nibbling away on the sweet confection. Ratchet had warned them that Jazz would be suffering from cravings during his carrying period and it appeared that oil cakes were the answer.

Happily munching away, Jazz closed the lid to the cooling unit and relaxed. It also turned out that Jazz was a lazy carrier and didn't like to work too much. Prowl had to work for even longer now to pick up the slack. Jazz desperately tried to focus on his work so his mate wouldn't work himself to an early deactivation, but it was _hard_. One moment he'd be working on a report and the next he'd be fantasising about a nap, even if he'd just had one.

However, Optimus understood this. As a sire himself to a mech called Hot rod, he allowed Prowl to leave his office whenever he wished and late datapads were acceptable. For this, Prowl was thankful.

Not as if he actually took advantage of that though. Carrying mate or not, work was still important. Jazz did not like this mentality, but that was mostly his new and improved view of reports speaking. So when Prowl returned to their quarters, exhausted and ready to just flop down and recharge until he had to get up again, Jazz was quick to pounce and smother him with kisses. "Ah missed ya today." He said in between them. Prowl reached up and stroked the back of his helm, prompting Jazz to purr and lean into the touch.

It didn't take Prowl long to fall into recharge when he went to berth, Jazz following soon after.

* * *

It turned out that Prowls sire protocols had already kicked in.

There was a decepticon attack on a power plant, and as Jazz was still in the fairly early stages of carrying it was relatively safe for him to go out, provided he didn't take a kick in the chest or be on the receiving end of a hard blow. Being Special Ops, avoiding hits was a speciality. So, both black and whites rolled out of the base after their leader.

Soundwave had made the rather unfortunate decision to attack the Saboteur. Prowl did not like this. He definitely did not like this.

The battle drew to a standstill as the two faced off. Prowl was going nuts, kicking and punching any part of Sounwave he could get to. While to the outside world it looked completely random and frenzied, there was method to the madness. He was shredding up his joints to limit his movement so he couldn't attack or eject his cassettes. That was at least five decepticons now out for the count. While Jazz watched, a little shocked that Prowl was on the front lines using his body as opposed to being toward the back with his acid rifle, directing the others Megatron and Optimus shared a look.

"What the _frag_ is wrong with your Second in Command?" Megatron growled. Optimus couldn't reply with 'sire protocols' as that would raise the question of whom was sparked and so who were they meant to be killing. Instead, he settled with something far less dignifying.

"Bad mood."

Megatron gave him a look that told him he knew he was lying, however he didn't comment any further on it. He glanced back over to where Prowl was beating up his Third in Command and saw that Jazz was now trying to pull Prowl away as Soundwaves visor had gone dark. His optics narrowed slightly and he growled before swinging around and punching Optimus square in the face, knocking him back a fair bit.

He gave the order to retreat, picking up Soundwave and leaving with him. Prowl was still breathing heavily, doorwings flared aggressively and optics locked on Soundwaves retreating form. Clearly, Soundwave had just made himself a mortal enemy of Prowl.

Soundwaves energon was dripping down him, a few splatters on his face and chest. Most of it was on his hands, as he had used those to actually tear the joints apart, and it was now dripping onto the floor. Jazz had some on him from when he was pulling Prowl away so he wouldn't brutally murder the mech. He'd _never_ be able to live with himself if he did, and Jazz knew that.

"Ya really went ta town there, didn' ya?" Jazz said, wiping a splatter off of his face. Prowls optics dimmed and he pressed his face into the touch. He intertwined their fingers together, ignoring the feeling of energon in him joints, and turned so that his lip plates were brushing against Jazz's palm. "For you." He murmured. Jazz felt somewhat prideful and leaned forwards to press a kiss onto his face when the sound of Ratchet shouting distracted him.

The medic was making a bee-line towards Prowl, looking slightly pissed. Okay, he looked _very_ pissed. Incredibly pissed.

"What were you _thinking_?!" He shouted, giving Prowl a whack. "You could have exposed the fact your mate is carrying!" He hissed before facing Jazz. "And you! You should know better than to engage Soundwave!"

Jazz tried to explain that he literally didn't see him coming, but Ratchet shut him up by starting to inspect him and ran a few scans on him. Satisfied that Jazz was unharmed, he rounded onto Prowl.

He grumbled and growled, displeased at what he was seeing. "Have you turned off your pain receptors?"

"No."

Ratchet raised his eyebrows. Clearly, Prowl had an injury that should be hurting. A lot.

"You might want to. Once the buzz wears off it'll do more than sting."

"What will?"

"You've got a hole in your leg Prowl."

Two pairs of optics immediately looked down. Sure enough, there was a sizeable chunk missing from Prowls leg and energon was oozing out of it Soundwave had managed to land a hit. Surprising, given the speed Prowl was moving at.

"Oh."

Jazz squeaked, kneeling down next to Ratchet. "Prowler-!"

"Will be fine." Ratchet snapped, doing basic repair work on his leg so the energon stopped flowing out. "Don't even think about writing a report, I want you in my medbay the moment you're back on base."

"Of course."

Prowl was starting to feel the tingling pain of his leg and he winced a little. Wow. _Wow_. How didn't he feel that one?

Jazz looked slightly concerned, and was about to tell him to turn off the pain receptors until he was interrupted by their Prime telling them all to transform and return to base. The pair looked at each other before swiftly transforming and speeding away to the base after their Prime.

* * *

**I had this typed up on my phone – I was an idiot and forgot about it for ****_days_****.**

**~Llama**


	12. Chapter 12

**Thanks to Moonwallker for the original suggestion and to RagdolDark & Lair of the Twisted Muses for requesting~**

* * *

_Twins part three_

There had been no further decepticon attacks, and unsurprisingly no cassettes had been found in the base.

Jazz spent most of his time either curled up on Prowls lap while he worked or curled up under his desk. If he wasn't there, he was in his office trying to get some reports done.

As much as Prowl protested about Jazz cuddling up to him while he was trying to work, he didn't really mind it. It was rather nice, actually. It was just when he was trying to have a serious meeting with someone when it was distracting and he was adverse to it. He'd be halfway through a sentence when Jazz would start _purring_ and everyone would lose their train of thought and just stare at the mech on the tacticians lap wo was deep in recharge, snuggling closer to their mates frame. Primus help him when Jazz started _whining_.

Prowl tried locking him in their quarters when he had a serious meeting to attend to, but he had forgotten an important factor. There was no such thing as a locked door to a saboteur. Jazz would override the lock in a spark beat and run straight back over to Prowl, forcing himself onto his lap.

Fortunately, right now, the shift was nearly over and there were no more meetings. Ratchet had enforced that Prowls shifts were halved in length after Jazz's spark chamber started swelling from the new sparks. He'd need help getting around at this point, and he'd also need to be kept under a watchful optic as this was the most common stage for the body to reject it and the sparks re-adsorbed.

Helm tucked under his mates chin, Jazz sleepily asked Prowl a question that had been on his mind for a while.

"What're we gonna call 'em?"

Prowl hummed, absently stroking Jazz's hip. "I have a few ideas."

"Ah wanna call one Sweetspark."

Prowl nearly crashed on the spot. "We are _not_ calling _anything _that sorry excuse of a name."

Jazz laughed, shaking his head. "Ah was only kiddin' mech! Calm ya'self!" Prowl grumbled, signing something on a datapad before placing it on the 'complete' pile. Jazz nudged his chin. "So. Names."

"I am rather partial to Blues."

"Couldn't even imagine why" Jazz replied cheekily, Prowls engine rumbling in amusement.

Jazz's chest had swollen to accommodate the twin sparks alongside his own, and he was now finding it rather difficult to get up on his own. He was now a great source of entertainment, watching him wiggle his legs around like a ladbird on its back in a pitiful attempt to get up until someone took pity upon him and helped. It was always graciously accepted, and Jazz was keeping tabs on those who helped him and those who stood by and laughed. As soon as these twins were out, he swore he'd get his revenge.

Unfortunately, there were new chemicals being released into Jazz's body to help it adapt. These new chemicals made him incredibly emotional and it was often Prowl who had to comfort his mate until the hiccupping stopped and he could form a coherent sentence.

In one of Jazz's emotional outbursts, Prowl discovered the names of the mechs who had helped him so far and those who hadn't. With his new-found knowledge he decided to abuse his power as SIC and change the rotor so that those who had helped had the nice, pleasant shifts that everyone desperately wanted and those who hadn't had the shifts that everyone was desperate to change.

Patrol with Prowl was one such shift.

"Don't get them too beat up Prowlie." Jazz said, quickly kissing him before anyone saw. Prowl was still adverse to public displays of affection, and Jazz didn't want to push it.

"Tell that to the sire coding." He easily replied, affectionately brushing two fingers down his mates cheek before turning to observe the mechs surrounding them. It was a few breems before the start of the morning shift, so there were still mechs milling around, occasionally yawning. A couple of breems later, two mechs ambled towards Prowl. They nodded to him, standing to attention. Taking that as his invite to begin the shift, Prowl bade his mate farewell and the three transformed before they drove out of the base.

* * *

Prowl certainly knew how to make someone's life miserable. The lambo twins were notorious for opting to laugh and poke fun at others at their own expense as opposed to helping them when they needed it – Jazz, at the moment, was one of these mechs. As a result, they were constantly on patrol with Prowl. The twins weren't pleased with this at all. So, every night, they returned in a foul mood with a rather cheerful Prowl, which was creepy, and went straight to their quarters.

Pleased Prowl, happy Prowl.

Jazz enjoyed seeing his mate getting his own back in his own little way. As SIC, he couldn't abuse his powers nor could he throw mechs in the brig for what was considered 'stupid reasons' by the mechs aboard the _Arc_. As handler of the duty rooster, however, he had free reign of who did what and when. Optimus in all his kind glory turned a blind optic to it, remembering in vivid detail how it was while Ratchet was sparked with Hot rod. A lot of mechs and femmes were reluctant to help him in fear of getting a wrench to the helm – many already had, the Prime included. His main argument had been that he was sparked, not disabled.

Something like that.

Jazz had held a similar sentiment to begin with, however Prowl had confiscated his energon blades and other hidden weapons when he had lobbed one at Wheeljack after the scientist had asked him if he wanted a medical grade energon dispenser installed in his quarters so he didn't have to go to the medbay multiple times a day. This did not make the saboteur happy, but if Prowl wanted it he'd do it. Sire protocols made that mech _scary_.

* * *

Towards the end of Jazz's carrying period, Prowl had gotten more and more protective of his carrying mate. It had reached the point where Ratchet had forced him to take a medical leave after Prowl had nearly seriously injured a human who had gotten too close to Jazz for his liking. So, Prowl sat with Jazz in their quarters, doing his reports from there.

It was silent until Prowl received a comm. from Blaster.

::We're receiving a call::

::Who's it from?::

::I don't know. They're claiming to be a group of neutrals::

Prowl stood up. ::Are there any humans in the base?::

::Nope::

::I'm on my way. Don't do anything until I get there::

Prowl swiftly left their quarters after explaining the situation to Jazz, and ran down to teletraan-1. He nodded to Blaster who pressed a few buttons and the screen lit up with the faces of his and Jazz's Sire.

"Sire!" Prowl yelped, nearly stumbling backwards. He thought his sire was dead!

"It's good to see you, Prowl."

"How did you find us?"

"Through hard work and determination. Are we allowed to land?"

Several joors later, a shuttle was landing around a mile away from the Autobot base. Prowl was waiting for the new arrivals with Ratchet, Optimus and Ironhide. Jazz hadn't been told that his Sire was aboard as he'd _insist_ that he had to be there, and everyone knew that it would send Prowl haywire. Last week he'd shot an ant with an acid pellet for crawling on Jazz's pede. An _ant_.

Prowl was pleasantly surprised to see that both his Sire and Carrier were aboard. They ignored his protests about being hugged and both cuddled him, much to the other mechs amusement. Both of Jazz's creators left the shuttle along with a few other neutrals whom Prowl did not recognise.

"We won't stay for long. We're a little short on fuel." A neutral who appeared to be the pilot assured the Prime. Optimus nodded.

"Very well."

* * *

When Prowl returned to his quarters, Jazz was recharging on the sofa. Their creators were in the medbay getting checked out by the medical team to ensure they were all still in working condition, and they'd expressed their eagerness to see Jazz.

Because of the war, Prowl and Jazz had never actually gotten round to telling their Creators that they'd bonded, much less that they'd bonded to _each other_. Prowl wasn't sure how their creators would react to this.

None the less, they had to do it. He gently shook Jazz awake.

"Someone wants to see you."

"Who is it?" Jazz asked, tiredly rubbing his optics behind his visor. Prowl helped him stand and steadied him when he stumbled, not quite fully awake yet.

"Our creators." Jazz stalled before he looked up at Prowl.

"What?"

"They're paying Earth a visit while their ship gets refuelled and the repairs it needs. They want to see you."

Jazz was immediately scrambling towards the door. Prowl could feel his excitement flooding through the bond, and it was starting to batter him. "Jazz, could you tone it down a little?"

"Ah, meh bad" Jazz meekly replied, restraining himself. The pair walked down to the medbay and entered as Jazz's Sire was just finishing up his check up.

"Jazzy!"

Prowl had to grab onto something and hold tightly onto it to stop himself from lunging at Jazz's Sire, who had seen fit to launch himself at his creation. Prowl refused to give into the Sire protocols demands and protect Jazz because there was _nothing_ to protect him from, and clawing out an innocent neutrals optics was not on the top of his to-do list.

Everyone was staring at Prowl.

He awkwardly detached himself from what he had latched onto and tried to look normal, although his doorwings gave away his agitation. Jazz was trying his best to stop his Sire from giving him the hug he desperately wanted to and his optics kept on shifting between his sire and Prowl, making sure Prowl wasn't suddenly going to pounce on his sire and make them have a repeat of the Soundwave incident.

Prowls Sire, a mech called Viridian, was being checked up by Ratchet, and he was watching the black and white pair with a thoughtful expression. "Prowl, why didn't you tell us?"

"I'm sorry?"

"Jazz is sparked, isn't he." It wasn't a question – more of a statement. Prowl shyly looked down and nodded.

From the other side of the medbay Jazz's carrier, a femme called Rhythm, could be heard squealing. "Ooh that's lovely! Why didn't you tell us?"

Prowl felt his faceplates slowly start to heat up, but Jazz's Sire immediately stepped away from Jazz. Prowls doorwings relaxed slightly now that nobody was trying to touch Jazz. "We didn' know ya were alive." Jazz said, standing beside Prowl and massaging the area between both his doorwings with magnetic impulses. "If we did, ya'd be the firs' ta know."

"I hope not." Ratchet commented as he snapped a panel on Prowls Sires leg shut. "You're good."

Viridian hopped down and started popping his joints back into position. Prowls Carrier, a mech called Amethyst, glared at him, giving him a small slap. "Not so loudly!" he quietly hissed. Viridian just smirked and carried on, trying his hardest to make it sound even louder.

Ratchet restrained himself from throwing a wrench at the mech. If he popped a joint and he had to fix it...

"So, my guess is Prowl's the Sire?"

"Yup!" Jazz chirped, grinning widely. Amethyst clapped his hands together, optics glittering.

"So I take it you also bonded?"

You couldn't hide anything from your parents could you?

Prowl nodded and Rhythm squealed again, the medic giving her a check up looking a little nervous. He wondered if she had a few loose screws. "That's wonderful! I always knew you'd end up together!"

"It's a shame we never made a betting pool." Prowls Carrier commented.

Prowl growled, doorwings rising slightly. They'd already made a betting pool from when they were in the academy – Primus wouldn't have been able to save them if they'd betted on whether or not they'd end up _bonding_.

The medic had finished with Rhythm, and she happily trotted over to them. "How's it been without us?"

'Peaceful' was the first word to come to Prowls mind and he was about to voice this until Jazz shot him a harsh glare. He immediately bit his glossa. That was a glare that promised _pain_. Instead, he chose to go with the safer route.

"It's been different. Up until a few joor ago we all thought you were dead."

"I love your faith in us!" Amethyst chided, a small smile breaking out on their face.

"The 'cons did wipe out a lot of neutral groups." Jazz pointed out. "We thought tha' ya were part of 'em."

"Our group was, for the most part, destroyed. That much is true. We were very lucky to have survived it."

* * *

A few cycles later, their shuttle was fully repaired and they were preparing to leave. Jazz was getting incredibly emotional at the thought of his creators leaving again. He hadn't seen them since the war really started to heat up – even if you ignored the time he was in stasis, it was still a very long time ago.

Jazz was clinging onto his creators with coolant streaming down his faceplates, and Prowls Sire was clinging onto Prowl for entirely different reasons. Prowls doorwings had shot up into an aggressive v-shape when Jazz started clinging onto the other mech and femme, showing his displeasure. If Jazz weren't sparked, he would have been fine with it. They were his _creators_ for Primus sake; there was _nothing wrong_ with them at all. Sire protocols seemed to think otherwise and they were screaming at him to get his aft over there and beat them into the ground.

Eventually, Jazz's creators were freed and back into their shuttle along with the other neutrals. He was standing beside Prowl, trying to coax his doorwings back down into their neutral position while their Prime was given the shuttles personal comm. number. After being assured that they would contact them should the need arise, the shuttle took off and left, a white trail the only thing it left behind.

* * *

**I'm going to start titling these things so they're a tad easier to find. Bleh.**

**Optimus/Ratchet is an OTP of mine Please don't hurt me**

**~Llama**


	13. Chapter 13

**As requested by Moonwallker!**

* * *

_Restless_

Jazz couldn't sleep.

He'd force himself to relax, often resorting to human relaxation techniques and yoga, offline his optics and lie deathly still and fall into a light recharge before suddenly jolting back awake again.

It was frustrating. He could hear the quiet cycling of air through every other mech asleep on base – his audial horns were still on their highest sensitivity and he was still too jumpy to turn them back down again – and he envied them. While they could recharge effortlessly and endlessly, he had to go to great lengths to relax enough for half a joor of recharge at most before bad memory fluxes tore him back to consciousness.

This _always_ happened. He'd go in and infiltrate a decepticon base, run into some trouble that sent him on high alert, and when he was back at base where it was _safe _he'd still think that if he got some shut-eye something would come up behind him and brutally dismember him in his sleep.

The only thing that set this last time apart from the others was that that had very nearly happened. It was only a loose bolt being accidentally kicked towards him that woke him up just in time to react to a very large and vicious looking energon blade being aimed directly at his face.

He was halfway to just _shooting_ something and begging Ratchet to knock him out when he heard Prowl enter their quarters. He shot up, throwing his arms out towards Prowl and pulling the most pathetic expression he could.

"Ah can't sleep." He weakly admitted. Prowl had expected this, and simply gave Jazz the hug he was begging for. Jazz held on fast, not wanting to let go. He was always terrified after every mission that this was just a dream cycle and that he was still in the heart of enemy territory. He thought that if he let go, he'd wake up and the nightmare would continue.

Prowl gently lead him back to the berth, letting him get on first, relaxing his hold slightly so Jazz could wriggle himself backwards so he was pressed against the wall. After a mission, for at least a decacycle after, Jazz would insist on sleeping with his back pressed firmly against the wall with Prowl in front of him. Any other way and he wouldn't sleep. At all.

With the sound of Prowls systems cycling down for recharge and the feel of his intakes blowing across his helm, Jazz finally fell asleep.

* * *

**Sorry it's so short!**

**~Llama**


	14. Chapter 14

**Originally started as a request from MoonWallker, but my angst muse took over. Sorry about that. One day I will do it properly.**

* * *

_Battlefield_

The battle had gone badly.

_Very badly_.

The few autobots who weren't in the medbay were either going back and collecting their dead – for many what was left of them – or they were running trying to help where they could.

It took almost a full cycle until it was calm enough for them to sit down and take the break they direly needed. For once, Prowl was willing to turn a blind eye to the high-grade that was being passed around by the twins.

The twins, by some twist of fate, had narrowly avoided deactivation via an enraged Starscream when their jet packs suddenly stopped working in unison. They fell like stones into the sea below them and resurfaced a joor later.

Now feeling that there was enough order for them to function without him, Prowl retreated back to his office. He hadn't emerged since he first went in there, and nobody had heard a single thing from him. Not a single peep. Jazz took it upon himself to check up on the mech, as it was Prowls plan that had failed so badly. He knew how hard Prowl took it when disasters such as this happened – he took it personally. Tricked himself into thinking that he'd killed every single mech who died with his own hands.

Of course, this was far from the truth. But would Prowl listen – or accept that? No. He wouldn't.

Jazz knew this.

So he wasn't surprised when he unlocked the doors to Prowls office to find Prowl slumped over his desk nursing a cube of high-grade. From the state of the floor, it obviously wasn't his first. He carefully picked his way over, making sure not to step on the empty cubes that littered the floor.

"Prowler?"

Prowl hummed, lifting his head slightly to look at Jazz. His optics were dim and significantly wet looking. Jazz felt himself deflate. Damn, Prowl was _literally_ drowning in his sorrows. He plucked the cube out of Prowls hands, placing it further away from him on the desk. Prowl protested slightly until Jazz started rubbing in between his doorwings. He just couldn't be _bothered_ to push Jazz away and tell him to stop – he liked it and damn it, he needed the comfort right now. He barely suppressed a hiccup.

The office stunk of high grade to the point where it was starting to hurt Jazz's optics. They stung a little, and coolant had started to leak from them in a desperate attempt to soothe his optics. The two remained in silence for a little while longer until Jazz broke it.

"Ya really shouldn' hole ya'self away, Prowler."

"They don' need me." He mumbled in reply. The slur in his voice betrayed how much he'd had to drink.

"No one blames ya fer what happened. All our intel told us tha' Devastator was outta action."

"I should have known."

"Nobody knew. Nobody blames ya."

"I should have known!"

Jazz silently pulled Prowl into a hug, still massaging his back, murmuring comforting words into Prowls audial when he began to hug Jazz back, shaking with the force of his sobs.

* * *

**Sslaxx – I ship them together so hard it hurts, Transformersfan524 just fuelled the flame. I did see Hot rod as being their kid before, but after reading their fics it got fixated in my head and I legitimately cannot see it any other way any more. Welp.**

**Lair of the Twisted Muses – Yep! That would! I've managed to make myself crack up just thinking about how happy Optimus would be because he finally wouldn't have to strain his neck to maintain eye contact with anyone. Simple things please simple people, ey?**

**As always, I'm open to requests at all times! I'm starting to run low on the nice list MoonWallker gave me.**

**~Llama**


	15. Chapter 15

**Based on a prompt from Lair of the Twisted Muses! I actually go two ideas for this, so expect another one... Soonish...**

**I've never written Decepticon!Prowl so I thought I'd give that a shot.**

* * *

_Whisked away_

He was like a summers breeze. Light and warm, gently brushing past you and caressing you as they went before leaving you with an icy cold chill made even colder by the harsh sun you were left to face on your own.

He also came just as quickly as he left. Prowl sat alone in his office, drawing up plans for the decepticons next attack on a power plant for energon that they desperately needed. He almost didn't hear the pedefalls behind him. Almost. When their owner was close enough for him to feel in precise detail with his doorwings, he cocked his gun. The chink of metal made the mystery mech behind him freeze on the spot, obviously surprised that they'd been caught.

Prowl slowly turned around to regard the mech. They sported an almost identical paint job to his own and a stunning blue visor. In his hand was an energon blade that hadn't yet been activated, however the mech's finger was hovering over the switch that would bring life to the dull handle.

"Frag"

Prowl didn't have any time to react before he felt a sharp pain in his neck and went limp.

* * *

He awoke again with a throbbing helm and a sore neck. He'd been drugged, excellent. Soundwave would _never_ let him hear the end of it.

He gingerly stood, quickly taking in his office to ensure nothing was out of place before quickly leaving. He'd need to report the breech and complain about Soundwaves incompetence at keeping intruders out.

Before he got too far, he encountered a visored mech. He looked strikingly familiar. He had a lithe, silver frame that boasted speed _and_ flexibility with a crimson visor and viciously clawed hands. Prowl liked what he saw, although he couldn't quite place his finger on why they looked familiar. Compared to the absolute _dogs_ he was surrounded by, this mech was quite the find. The diamond in the rough, so to speak. He was about to inquire what their designation was so he knew who to sought out should he requite some 'company', only to be interrupted by Soundwave. What a tricksy fellow.

"Designation: Meister." Ah, he'd read his mind. How rude. "Assignment: Tactical Officers Personal Assistant."

Ooh, perfect. Prowl nodded, very pleased with this twist of fate. "Very well. Follow me." He twirled around on the spot, walking back the way he came at a brisk pace. The other mech – Meister – kept up well. Once at Prowls office, Prowl keyed in the pass codes and walked in.

He'd have to complain later. Now, he had a Personal Assistant to have fun with.

Now, what was it PA's did again?

* * *

Meister functioned well as a PA. Very well. Prowl didn't know how he functioned without him.

What Prowl _especially_ liked was that Meister played along with his advances and that on numerous occasions they had shared a berth. Yes, that he most certainly enjoyed.

Now, with his systems rumbling, he indulged Meister with a few more moments of lazing around in berth, allowing the mech to place his helm on his own chest. Normally such intimacy with others was frowned upon – who had _time_ for this _autobot_ nonsense – but Prowl had long ago destroyed the surveillance cameras in his quarters and nobody would ask.

It was in this moment of weakness when suddenly Meister spun around and pinned Prowl and his arms to the berth. In his hand was an energon blade that was humming with life, glowing dangerously close to Prowls throat. Meisters visor turned to that same stunning blue as the mech in his office, and the silver gave way to a black and white paint job. Prowl snarled. _That's_ where he recognised him. And now that he could get a better look, he could place a name to the face.

"Jazz" He hissed, optics narrowing in distate.

"Sorry 'bout this. Ah _could_ yet ya live, but yah've seen meh."

Prowl barked out a laugh. "You were planning on letting me live? How _rich_."

"Yah not so bad. 'Sides, Ah got what Ah needed from ya."

"An _autobot_ feeling sympathy for a _decepticon_? My my, you really are an odd one." Jazz's visor darkened and his mouth pulled down into a frown. The sound of an alarm startled them both. Neither were expecting it, and Jazz turned around to glare at the door before returning his attention to Prowl.

"Change a' plan. Ah'll let ya live – fer now." And with that he slunk away like a panther from Prowl towards the door, palming it open before sprinting away.

He'd got Prowl and he'd got Prowl good. Prowl would _never_ admit to Meister being Jazz as they'd worked so closely together and yet he hadn't noticed. If he said anything – if _anyone_ did – he was _ruined_. Prowl clenched his fists and ground his denta together. Giving an angered shout, he snatched his blaster from the shelf and stormed out of his quarters, intent on putting a few bullets through Jazz's helm.

* * *

**I enjoy having a list of prompts/requests *prods* If there's ever something you want, don't be afraid to ask.**

**In the wise words of RJ, ****_enough is never enough_****. Then again I'm just greedy.**

**~Llama**


	16. Chapter 16

**I'm going to cry this thing just keeps getting longer and longer**

**I'M GOING TO TRY AND WRAP IT UP SOON I PROMISE ;A; THERE'S LIKE ONE MORE PART AND THEN I'M DONE**

**CRIES TEARS OF HAPPINESS**

* * *

_Twins part 4_

Jazz had just over one groon left in his carrying period.

Wheeljack, much to the delight of the medical team (especially Ratchet), had taken a break from his inventing and had constructed things for the twins to use, such as berths with rails (Sparklings had a habit of being adventurous and rolling around in their recharge) and some toys for them to play with so they wouldn't badger their creators for entertainment.

Jazz had now stopped wriggling onto Prowls lap and purring during meetings, and instead he was often found in the rec. room chatting to other Autobots and playing videogames with the twins. If he wasn't there, he was in his quarters watching a movie (he'd never admit it, but he would always fall into recharge and wake up as the credits were rolling).

Despite the fact Jazz had stopped with his tendencies, Prowl was not quite so lucky. Everyone had stopped counting after the 87465th insect. _Nothing_ was safe. Even if it was just within a foot of Jazz Prowl was quite literally pouncing on them and either crushing them or eradicating them completely by melting their soft bodies with acid. Even when Jazz told him to stop it and that he was being stupid, he still did it. He, quite literally, could not control himself. The humans who frequented the base had learned early on that they should avoid Jazz at all costs, even if they desperately wanted to talk to the saboteur. It was as if Prowl could _smell_ human on Jazz, and he'd be put into an awful mood for the rest of the cycle. An awful mood where he wouldn't watch where he'd tread.

Sideswipe swore that Prowl sometimes went out of his way to hover a pede over a human when they weren't looking, only to quickly spin away and continue in the other direction when someone looked. Red Alert wasn't revealing anything, so everyone just ignored Sideswipe. Ratchet wouldn't put it past him, though.

When he wasn't being overrun by Sire Protocols, he was his usual calm and collected self. He would spend his entire shift in his office, be chased out by an angry Ratchet, grab a couple of cubes from the rec. room and return back to his quarters where Jazz was usually recharging on the sofa or curled up on their berth with a datapad.

Today, it was the latter. Smiling despite himself, Prowl sat down next to him on the berth and took out a datapad of his own – he'd snuck a few datapads out of his office – before he handed Jazz an energon cube. Jazz's visor brightened for a split second at the sight of the cube, not having realised Prowl was back. He accepted it and quietly sipped at it as he shifted himself so he was leaning against Prowl, cuddling up to his side.

* * *

If the SIC an TIC of the Autobot army were to ever hear someone claiming they wanted twins, they would be quick to advise them against it. Looking after twins was no easy feat, and the pair were starting to admire Sunstreaker and Sideswipes creators after what they'd been put through.

When you had finally got one in their berth, you would turn around thinking that it was safe to go catch the other one. When you finally managed to catch them, you would turn back to their berth to see it empty.

If you left them alone for five minutes, you would return to find the room completely and utterly destroyed with things you didn't even know _existed_ littering the floor, and a pair of very smug-looking sparklings sitting amongst the wreckage.

When it came to feeding time, they would accept their energon before promptly spitting it out at the unfortunate mech who was feeding them or at their sibling. Failing that, they'd cover the floor with it.

All in all, they were little shits.

The Prime was no stranger to Prowl knocking on his door at three o'clock in the morning anymore. The datsun would look dishevelled and exhausted while carrying to twins on his hips, sometimes with an equally as exhausted Jazz. The pair would just silently look at the Prime with pleading optics and he would sigh, allowing them in so he could diagnose the problem and suggest ways to help.

Given that the Prime was one of the only creators on the ship, he was the one who was being constantly bombarded with questions in the dead of night. While he was happy to help and glad that they swallowed their pride and _asked_, it did get ridiculous.

However, despite all of their antics, the black and white pair loved them to pieces.

In addition to this, Prowl had received a comm. call from Starscream and his trine mates who immediately started asking about the sparklings. While Starscream pretended to be indifferent to it, he was the one who leaned in closer to the screen with a curious glint in his optic every time Prowl started speaking. Skywarp, was, as always, over-excited and was literally bouncing around in excitement. Thundercracker just watched him with weary optics and apologised to Prowl about his trine-mates behaviour.

It was from that conversation that Prowl learned seekers had an affinity for sparklings, no matter the faction. It was also how Skyfire came to be first on the baby-sitting duty list. He didn't complain, and he even asked to take care of them even when Jazz and Prowl weren't on shift. It appeared that Skyfire was a huge fan of them.

Jazz and Prowl certainly weren't complaining.

* * *

**I thrive off reviews and I'm always open to requests/prompts *Poke poke***

**Also if you've send in a prompt/request don't worry – I am working on them! Just polishing them up or finding a 'plot' that I like for them.**

**~Llama**


	17. Chapter 17

**As requested by Krikanalo!**

**Can be seen to be a part of twins :D**

* * *

_Reading_

The room was silent. The only sound that punctured the peaceful tranquillity in the room was the sound of Prowl tapping away at his keyboard, entirely focused on the data on the screen in front of him.

He didn't notice when the door opened with a swoosh, and he didn't hear the sounds of two pairs of tiny pedes hitting the floor as their owners waddled in. When the door beeped to signal that it had been locked again, Prowls attention was captured.

His optics swept the room but he saw no one there. He rolled his optics. He'd _really_ have to change the passcode on his door.

He stood up and looked over his desk and straight at a pair of black and white sparklings who were both holding onto the same datapad. They looked up at him with wide, bright optics. They had so nearly perfected the puppy eyes expression, which Jazz had seen fit to teach them.

While Prowl would like to think that he was a battle hardened warrior, he was incredibly weak to the puppy eyes expression. Seeing it on his sparklings faces while they clung onto a datapad, doorwings fluttering reduced him to putty.

Prowl sighed and resigned to the fact that they had, yet again, won without saying a single word.

"Very quickly."

Their faces lit up immediately and they rushed around the desk, stumbling and tripping over their own feet and the extra weight before they stopped at their Sires pedes, immediately thrusting the datapad towards him. Prowl took it and placed it on the desk before he picked the twins up and sat them on his lap. He onlined the pad and began reading it to them.

* * *

Prowl was late back to their quarters and nobody knew where his sparklings were.

Needless to say, Jazz was slightly worried. He could still feel them through their bond, and he knew they were all okay however he still felt compelled to go and find them.

He stopped outside of Prowls office and quickly typed in the code, hoping to find them in there, and stopped in his tracks as he took in the scene in front of him.

Both of the twins were curled up to Prowl, deep in recharge and clinging onto his armour. Prowl himself was still reading aloud, although it were almost a whisper, with the datapad in one hand and the other was lovingly stroking in between one of the sparklings doorwings.

Jazz couldn't help but smile at that, taking lots of video and photo captures. He decided to alert Prowl to his presence by slipping into the room, going over to his side and starting to read aloud with him.

Prowl jumped when he heard Jazz so close, and looked at Jazz with a shocked expression.

"When did you come in?"

"Jus' now. Ya shift's been over fer joors."

Prowls optics dimmed for a split second as he checked his chronometer and he nearly swore. "I didn't finish all of my datapads."

"Ya can do that tomorrow."

Prowl nodded, carefully scooping one sparkling into his arms while Jazz took the other and he stood. He decided that he would sneak out and into his office while everyone else was sleeping and get them done. He wouldn't be able to recharge if he didn't.

"An' don't ya even think about sneakin' out."

"What ever made you think I'd do that?"

"Ah know ya Prowler." Jazz replied, cheekily tapping him on the nose before dancing out of his office and down the hall towards their quarters. Prowl rolled his optics, subspacing a few pads before he left, and locked the door behind him.

* * *

**Sorry this is so short D:**

**Lair of the Twisted Muses – The honour is mine UvU**

**~Llama**


	18. Chapter 18

**Blame Lair of the Twisted Muses for this one. The second idea I had for Whisked away is being done, but the bunny bit. ****_Hard_****.**

**Naughty occurings of the sticky variety at the end.**

* * *

_Whisked away – continued_

The Autobots didn't even see them coming.

After they had launched an attack on their base, after which Meister – no, _Jazz,_ had disappeared, Megatron had pushed Prowl to the limit to plan a revenge attack.

It worked magnificently and they had a large supply of Autobot prisoners to prove it. Jazz was one of them.

Soundwave in all of his infinite knowledge instructed Prowl to go down to his cell and take him into an interrogation room and squeeze as much information out of him as possible. Prowl was only too happy to do so, and now Jazz was nicely chained up to a wall in a dim room with rusting, crumbling walls and a distinct smell of rancid energon hanging in the air.

Prowl sat down on a chair facing him and simply stared at him. Jazz stared back through his cracked visor.

And Prowl stared.

And stared.

And stared.

Enough was enough, and Jazz shifted uncomfortably. He felt Prowls optics burning into him as if he were seeing past his armour and inside him, viewing the mechanisms that gave him movement, the ability to transform and life itself. "Ain't ya gonna do somethin'?"

"No."

"Ya just gonna stare me to death?"

"If that were possible, then yes."

Jazz laughed, his chains rattling. "This is gonna be fun, Prowler."

"My name is Prowl." He hissed, doorwings flaring into a 'v' and suddenly standing up with so much force that his chair fell backwards. Jazz pressed back into the wall slightly. He was well aware that he was completely defenceless and he had incredibly limited movement. He wasn't stupid enough to believe that Prowl wouldn't hurt him because of Meister – he would. He most certainly would, if the sounds of absolute fury Prowl made while he was hunting him down after he blew his cover were anything to go by.

There wouldn't be a rescue this time. He hoped Megatron was generous enough to negotiate a release.

Prowl took a deep intake and his doorwings lowered back into their neutral position. He released it slowly, ending it with a small smile that was empty and emotionless, promising a painful experience for Jazz. He slowly walked towards Jazz, and when he was close enough he gently lifted his chin and pushed his head back as far back as it could go, his clawed finger tips scratching and digging into Jazz's throat. Jazz stiffened, unwilling to move lest Prowls fingers lodged themselves inside his throat.

"Let's remember that, shall we?"

Jazz pressed his lips together into a thin line and managed a small nod, Prowls claws pricking his throat and drawing small beads of energon. Prowl glanced down uninterestedly and his smile grew when he saw the energon. "Unfortunately, I've been tasked with getting information out of you. While it would be far, far easier to plug in and take a look around, I fear that you have some interesting firewalls. Am I correct in this assumption?"

"What do ya think?"

"I take that I am correct. Now, this leaves me with very few options. Now, you can save us both the hassle and just tell me, or I'm going to have to move onto some more _extreme_ methods."

"Ah ain't tellin' ya anythin'."

"I thought you'd say that." Prowl replied, moving his hand away from Jazz's throat and instead using it to hold his face, thumb rubbing under a damaged optic. His other hand came up to rest on his shoulder, incredibly close to where there was a long gash running from his shoulder down to his knee. It looked painful and it was already infected, the metal around it discolouring to a shade of green. The energon that had clotted in it was leaking infected fluids and looked wet. Very slowly, he slid his hand along until he came to where it started and slid his fingers inside, making sure to shove them in as harshly as he could. Jazz released a strangled yelp, whimpering at the pain it caused.

Prowl took a small pleasure in the fact he could draw such delicious sounds out of Jazz with pain or pleasure. "I'd like to know why you were first sent here."

"Ah thought that'd be obvious."

"Tell me." Prowl wiggled his fingers, forcing the clotted energon out of the wound and drawing out more energon and infected fluids. Jazz whimpered again, trying to move as far away from Prowl as possible.

"Ta assassinate ya."

"Was failing part of the plan?"

"No"

"Was creating a false identity part of the plan?"

"No"

"What should you have done?"

"Returned to the base"

"And why didn't you?"

Jazz was silent and didn't reply. He looked down as best as he could with Prowls hand keeping his helm firmly in place. Prowl pinched a wire he found harshly. "Why."

"Ah didn't want ta" Jazz gasped, back arching slightly as he hissed in pain.

"Pride?"

"Interest."

Prowls doorwings perked up at that. "With the information?"

"With you."

Prowl immediately tore his hand out of Jazz's shoulder and stepped away from him, breaking all contact. Jazz gave a shout of pain and whimpered when Prowl sat down again. He crossed his legs, rested an elbow on his knee and regarded Jazz with cold optics. "Interesting."

* * *

It had been joors since Prowl first went in there and nobody had heard a single thing from him. However, nobody was worried. Prowl held records of being in there for cycles before he emerged, covered in energon, and informing them that they'd have to return a carcass to the Autobots. This track record was also known among the Autobots, however they didn't know it was Prowl who held it. They thought it would be someone like _Soundwave_.

Jazz was still conscious; however there was energon all over himself and the floor along with parts of his body. Various internal organs were on the floor, however none of them were vital or hard to replace. Prowl knew when to start inflicting potentially fatal punishments for faltering.

He had been mostly stripped of his armour, his limbs almost entirely bare and his stomach plating lay on the other side of the room after being brutally ripped from him. There were coolant tracks on Jazz's face from when he had started to buckle from the pain.

But now, the chains that held Jazz's legs were laying abandoned on the floor around Prowls feet. Prowl himself was sitting in the chair, rubbing his hands with a cleaning rag to clear them of the fluids that covered them. He was watching Jazz with dim optics as the other mech squirmed under the scrutiny, an obvious high charge running through his circuits. The circuits that had been made visible through the loss of armour, and in some cases even the protoform, were clearly sparking.

Jazz tried desperately to press his thighs together to hide the lubricant that was running down them in rivets. He was loath to admit that despite the extreme pain he was in, some sick part of him found themselves _enjoying_ it and it felt _good_. His panel had been torn away earlier by Prowl not long after he'd discovered the heat there. There was absolutely _nothing_ that could stop Prowl from taking him there and then as brutally as he wished, however he stayed firmly seated in his chair with a predatory look in his optics.

Prowl stood and approached Jazz again, dropping the cleaning rag onto the chair.

Jazz tensed as he saw Prowl approaching. As much as he wanted nothing more than to hook his legs around his hips and beg that he _did something_ to get rid of the painfully high charge that ran rampant through his systems, the last time he did that Prowl saw fit to tear some of his armour off.

So he wouldn't move unless instructed.

As he had learned.

Jazz was so blinded by the agony he was in that he didn't realise Prowl was conditioning him. All he knew was that he wanted the pain to _stop_.

Prowl stopped when their chassis' were touching, and he gently tilted Jazz's head up so he was forced to look him in the optic. "You've been very naughty, Jazz." He purred into his audial, making Jazz shudder with a fresh rush of lubricant dribbling out of his valve. "What _am_ I going to do with you?"

"Ah'll be good" Jazz whimpered, knowing that if he didn't comply and play along with Prowls sick game, he'd be losing another organ.

"Let me in." Prowl replied, tapping the data port at the top of Jazz's neck where it met his helm. Jazz paused before Prowl harshly nipped his neck, drawing energon, and repeated himself with a growl. The panel protecting it hesitantly slid aside and Prowl licked the wound almost apologetically as he opened a panel on his wrist and slid out a cable, quickly plugging in.

He was met with thick firewalls, however he knew just how to get past them.

"Good mech" Prowl said, the hand that wasn't currently pressed into the wall to keep it close to the data port reaching down and pulling one of Jazz's legs up so it was hooked over his hip plating. Jazz quickly swung his other leg up to join it, ignoring the way his joints protested and wires sparked. He was rewarded with a long line of kisses going down his throat and a rough grind of hip plating against his own. He barely held back a moan.

"Have you been good while you were away?"

"As Ah can be"

Prowl slipped a digit into Jazz's hip, teasing the wires he found. "I hope no one else has touched what is mine. I'll have to punish them." Prowl wasn't going to deny that he had considered Meister as his. If he saw any other Decepticon give him a glance that lingered far too long to be a curious glance he would feel a dark, heavy feeling bubble up inside him and that Decepticon would soon find themselves surrounded by bad fortune. Jazz clutched onto the chains attached to his wrists and whimpered. While he _had_ received offers, he had rejected them. Even from mechs he didn't hesitate to leap into berth with before – it didn't feel right to. No, he had completely and utterly given himself to Prowl as Meister. There was very little he had left to give.

"No" Jazz panted, finding coherent thought more difficult than before with a deft digit in his hip, the feeling of Prowl breathing against his neck and the way his hips ground against his own.

"Good" Prowl growled, suddenly pulling Jazz upwards. There was a faint click of a panel being opened before Jazz was pulled back down again and fully seated on his length. He moaned and buried his face into Prowls neck as best he could, mouthing the metal. Prowl grit his teeth together to stop himself from making any noise.

He had used this tactic many times before on other Decepticons when Megatron suspected they were up to something or hiding information from him – never a prisoner nor an Autobot – and it usually worked. Overload the mech and when the energy is surging through the connection, go against the flow and bypass the firewalls. It always ended up with two crashed bots and it was rather painful , however it got information.

He could feel the crackle of Jazz's charge and he knew that Jazz didn't have long until he was pushed over the edge. Nibbling along Jazz's neck, he set a fast and hard pace that had Jazz scraping against the wall. Jazz was tugging at his chains, desperate to be able to touch the other mech and return the favour, however Prowl wasn't letting him. His visor flickering was the only warning Prowl had that his overload was imminent as his vocal processor had glitched.

As soon as it hit with a garbled burst of static from Jazz, Prowl bypassed his firewalls and quickly stole all of the information he could before crashing.

* * *

Prowl onlined again on the floor of the interrogation room. Jazz was still offline, and Prowl knew that he would be until he was repaired. He felt a small shred of guilt that Jazz was in that state; however he quickly crushed it down. Guilt was not something a Decepticon had. He smirked as he Hook. He'd be keeping Jazz, he'd make certain of it.

* * *

**I am a request whore so please send them in~ (I'm going to ask every chapter now get used to it kids)**

**~Llama**


	19. Chapter 19

**MoonWallker came to me saying that they wanted more and damn it so did I.**

**I really, really hope I got what you wanted.**

**So now I feel like a terrible human being but ****_DAMN SON_**

**Original suggestion by Lair of the Twisted Muses!**

* * *

_Whisked away - continued_

When an agitated Optimus came up on the screen, Megatron had told him Jazz had died during the interrogation and that there was very little left that was salvageable.

All of the Decepticons believed him to be dead.

Just two knew different.

Hook had agreed to fixing Jazz in private for Prowl, and promised that he'd keep his mouth shut. What Prowl wanted Prowl got, and the lengths he would go to were astounding. So, now that he was entirely repaired and all of his internal organs replaced and functioning, Jazz stayed in Prowls quarters.

Prowls' quarters wasn't a place people went willingly. They were either kicking and screaming as they were dragged in, or incredibly overcharged and shoved in by mechs with a vengeance. Prowl made sure that Jazz couldn't leave. He had put a collar around his neck, full of explosives that were rigged to blow if he tried to take off the collar or walk out of the door to his quarters. It was black and thick, and it made Jazz look incredibly cute in Prowls opinion. He almost felt _dirty_ with what he did to Jazz.

Almost.

He enjoyed what he did immensely, and the fact that it was his and his alone to enjoy just made it all that much _better_.

Prowl kept Jazz well fuelled, the third time Jazz went into stasis from low energy was just insulting, and gave him free movement through his quarters (which, due to him being an officer, were his and his alone and rather large) and regular overloads.

Jazz still acted like Meister did, curling up to Prowls side while they were in berth together, and he made no attempts to escape (the first time the collar detonated told him loud and clear that it was not a good idea and was in fact rather painful and traumatic). He complied with Prowls wishes and spent most of his time recharging and reading datapads from Prowls shelves.

It was currently day time, so Prowl was in his office ploughing through datapad after datapad and absorbing data to formulate a plan to get the energy they needed. His mind was wandering towards the black and white mech in his quarters who, right now, was probably still in recharge. He purred and licked his lips, the taste of the other mechs energon still on them. Did he feel guilty for biting him so hard he drew energon? No. Absolutely not. The sound Jazz made just served to excite him further and he drew energon in more than just one place. After, Jazz was understandably annoyed with him however he simply went to recharge instead of swatting him around the head. The last time he'd done that he'd waved goodbye to his hands. The only reason he got them back was because he had gotten down on his knees and begged.

Begged and pleaded like a mech pleaded for his life.

Jazz was well aware that he would only live as long as Prowls interest in him did. The moment it started to wane was the moment Jazz would see his life flash before his eyes. He would be cast aside like a spoilt child threw away a broken toy.

Right now, however, he was curled up on Prowls berth in recharge. When he woke up again, he knew that he wouldn't want to move (and he couldn't – Prowl had made sure of that earlier) so he'd indulge himself in some well-earned laze in time.

* * *

When Prowl returned from his shift, Jazz was laying on the berth in a way that showed off his frame and he was tracing shapes onto the berth surface. The thick black collar made the 'look' for Prowl and he couldn't stop the rev of his engine. Jazz shyly glanced upwards before flicking his optics back down again. His visor was long gone, shattered when the collar first exploded and Hook didn't replace it. Prowl saw every single that his scarred optics made, and he was one of the only living mechs that had ever seen them. Jazz hated that he was without his visor, as he had spent the vast majority of his life with it permanently in place, however he didn't want to be punished by Prowl for asking if he could have it back. So partially blind he stayed.

The datsun advanced towards his captive, slipping into the berth next to him. He reached out and stroked a hand down Jazz's thigh, watching with hooded optics as Jazz shuddered and his tracings faltered slightly.

Jazz looked up at Prowl and spotted a doorwing. He leaned forwards and started tracing patterns on it, pressing his thigh into Prowls hand and gently kissing him like one would a long-time lover. Prowl shuddered under the attention, still not quite used to having anyone touch his doorwings tenderly, and pushed back into the kiss, biting down on Jazz's bottom lip harshly, taking care to avoid the wound he had made earlier. Jazz gasped and Prowl stole the opportunity to tangle their glossas together, quickly rolling over so that Jazz was underneath him.

Just where he wanted him.

Jazz stopped tracing designs on his doorwings in favour of running his hands along the span of them, utilising the mag pulses in his hands over the more sensitive areas. Prowl groaned into the kiss, pressing his doorwings into Jazz's talented hands and tightening his grip on Jazz's thigh so that the metal crumpled under his hand. The mech growled out but did nothing more. Prowl smirked and with his other hand he started stroking the mech's audial horn, relishing in the moans he drew from the mech beneath him. Primus, but he couldn't get enough of them. When he began to grind his hips against the others, he was delighted to find that Jazz grinded back against him. Purring into his mouth, he removed his hand from the audial horn and began slowly sliding it down his body towards his panel, tapping on it in a silent order. _Open_.

Jazz obliged with only a seconds hesitation.

Prowl wasted no time in ravishing the exposed area, but not quite giving Jazz what he needed to be pushed over the edge. This frustrated the mech, who was reduced to a whimpering mess that could only beg and plead for release. Prowl _loved_ it when Jazz did this and so he, obviously, did not give the mech what he wanted until he'd had his fill.

* * *

By the time the black and white pair lay side by side, exhausted by their activities, Jazz was panting heavily as his cooling fans worked over time, desperately trying to expel the heat in his frame to a more manageable level. Prowl wasn't much better, however he wasn't sporting dents and bite marks on his hips, thighs, waist and neck. There was a stray bite mark on his berthmates shoulder, and he didn't remember inflicting it. How troublesome – he'd have to correct that.

Despite the fact his thighs and hips were still stained, wet and sticky with different fluids, including energon from a place energon should not be coming from, Jazz was content to just roll over and, as usual, snuggle up to Prowl and fall into recharge.

* * *

**The other thing you asked for to go with this is on its way, just that I haven't really written anything like that before and, uh, it's proving a little difficult " However I enjoy a challenge :D**

**Thank you to everyone for your reviews and the like! I get so happy whenever I see the review count it's not even real, like people are ****_reading_**** my things! And then they're reviewing! Eeeee!**

**As always, open to requests~ If you want to go anon, send them to me via my tumblr (Link is in my profile) as I have anon active on my ask box.**

**~Llama**


	20. Chapter 20

**I'm aware that I've done this suggestion before, but drunken me demanded that I did it again**

**Soooo I am.**

**Based on real events.**

**Original suggestion from MoonWallker! Go give them cookies they're amazing!**

* * *

4th of July, supposedly one of the biggest celebrations in the American year (and one where the British furiously defended their tea). It was one that demanded fireworks, loud music and greasy food.

The Arc was a hive of activity, with the vast majority of the crew eager to celebrate.

But when celebrations came one mech slunk away to hide and hope that nobody found him and dragged him into the disaster waiting to happen.

Alas, it was not to be. The mech's doorwings shot up into a defensive 'v' shape when they heard their name.

"Proooowwllleerrrr~!"

Prowl cursed, diving under his desk. He hugged the datapad he was working on to his chest – he would not be taken away from his work! He had to get rid of this mountain before the flood came in after the after math of the celebration (_something_ was going to go wrong – something always did!) and ate away his recharge cycles for the next groon.

Again!

The door to his office cycled open and there was a scuffling sound followed shortly after by the clattering of datapads as they fell to the floor. Prowl tensed up and tried to silence his intakes.

Jazz's head popped over the edge of the table and the mech grinned, visor glowing far too brightly to be natural.

"There ya are!" The mech shouted, leaping over the table with less grace than normal and clumsily attempting to tug the tactician out from under the desk. From the look of it, Jazz was overcharged.

Prowl was not happy.

"Jazz, you've been drinking."

"Jus' a lil' bi'." They slurred, grinning as they still pulled on Prowls leg. Deciding to humour the mech, he allowed himself to be dragged out.

"You want me to celebrate with you?"

Jazz eagerly nodded, dropping his leg and nodding his head like an excited youngling. Prowl only just suppressed a smile, and took a vid. capture of the moment. "No drinking."

The smile fell just as quickly. "Whaaaaa?"

"No drinking. It's not good for you."

"Buh wha's a celebra'ion wi'ou' one?"

"Well for one I can barely understand you."

Jazz pouted but nodded. "Foooiinn."

Prowl deposited the datapad on the desk and allowed Jazz to tug him along out of the Arc. Then it would play out like it always did – he would pretend to be intending to stay. Then, when Jazz wasn't paying attention, he'd slip away again. And while he was there he would put off the mechs from doing anything _stupid_.

* * *

He was too late to stop the stupidity.

He arrived just in time to have Jazz suddenly relinquish his iron grip on his hand and shoot off into the crowd, squealing loudly. Prowl nervously ran after him, scared about what he would find.

He had every right to be scared.

There was a huge bowl in the ground that was lined with metal. Mechs were pouring what looked like petrol into it.

Why would they want to pour-

Oh _primus_ no

"No!" Prowl shouted, snatching the petrol canister out of the nearest mech's hands. "Don't pour in any more! This is a waste of resources!"

They were going to make a fire pit! Where they _insane_?! The boxes of fireworks were by far too close! It was a disaster begging to happen!

Clearly, someone didn't get the memo that Prowl had forbidden them from doing anything further as the next moment the pit was suddenly ablaze. There was a brief explosion of searing hot flames that made Prowls paint bubble and flake off before it reluctantly settled down. Prowl glared at every mech standing around the flame, making it very clear that he was furious with them before he stalked away.

No. He was _not_ a happy bunny.

The Prime would be dealing with this. Prowl was having no part in it.

Just when Prowl thought that it couldn't get any worse, he was kindly proven wrong as a firework screamed past his head to explode in a star of red above the Arc. Prowl slowly turned to fix whoever launched it in his direction with a glare and he was greeted with the sight of the boxes containing the fireworks happily burning away, the fireworks inside being set off.

"Oh _frag_."

Jazz was standing there just watching them with a grin on his face, and the way his chassis was moving indicated that he was giggling at it like a little schoolgirl.

"Jazz, get away from there!" He shouted, hoping that the saboteur heard him. Jazz turned and grinned at him, giving him a thumbs up before prancing over to him. Once at his side, he immediately wrapped his arms around one of Prowls and joined him in watching the boxes explode

* * *

**I swear to god I don't usually get drunk it's just that it was my parents wedding anniversary party and beer got shoved into my hands more times than I'd care to remember and it all went downhill from there.**

**I am forever grateful I am not a lightweight.**

**~Llama**


End file.
